Broken Legs Change Lives

October 12, 2011
By Taru Gouldberg BRONZE, Moffat, Colorado
Taru Gouldberg BRONZE, Moffat, Colorado
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I am sitting in school, pondering all of my responsibilities. Suddenly a question pops into my mind: how did I become this type of person? Going back in time, a few years into my memories, I find myself looking back on the time my dad broke his leg.

It started out on a late autumn afternoon. My sister and I were lumbering off the bus after a long day of education. I ran up to my mom as if she were a beacon of light after a long treacherous storm. These feelings of joy would soon be shooed away by what I was about to here. “Your dad had an accident this morning.” My mother said as slid into our car. My heart plummeted into my stomach. The shock left me speechless.

“Is he okay? What happened?” I managed to squeeze out.

“He went over to Nathan’s house for something. They were unloading a 400 pound wood burning stove. Your dad, being his own helpful self, started helping them get it off the truck. They managed to get it off the truck, but the moment they put it down the heavy stove started tipping over. Your dad managed to almost get out of the way, all but his left leg. It got broken in two places. He’s in surgery in Alamosa right now. He’ll be back in a few days, you might need to take care of him for a while when he gets back.” My mother explained to me. For the next few days I spent most of the time preparing my self mentally for the journey that lay before me.

Believe me, this task was not an easy one. It was full time work every single day, and it was constant concentration and endurance; mostly it was the conditions that made it hard. It was entering the vast winter season. This meant it would snow every night and was increasingly cold. To make things even harder I still had to go to school and maintain good grades throughout this whole endeavor.

A good day in the strange twisted life that we somehow tumbled into went a little like this: I would wake up before the sun even had a chance to rub the sleep from its eyes. It was always cold and covered in snow in the out side world. The task I would do after getting out of bed would be to sweep the fridge newly fallen snow off our deck. Making breakfast was next on my list. I would begin cooking meals such as oat meal or bacon and egg burritos. When breakfast was finished it was time go into the kitchen for more cooking (my father was still bed ridden so I still had to make him lunch for later on in the day.) Once the meals for the day were complete, I would stoke the fire once more and head out the door to walk down the road a few blocks in the frigid outdoor air to catch the bus.

After the long day of school I would once again walk up the hill to my house. As soon as I got inside I would find what was needed from the store. And once again I would walk back into town to purchase food from the store. I would then start the hike through the snow back to my rapidly cooling home. After the groceries were in the fridge, it was time to chop firewood so we wouldn’t freeze in the long, cold, winter night. I would then light a large fire to worm us while I would prepare dinner. After dinner my dad would remind me “Don’t forget to do the dishes.” My homework would start soon after. When the school work was complete, it would be getting late, so I would stoke the fire one last time before getting ready for bed and for the next long day ahead of me.

These many endeavors throughout my life have thought me many thing, but most of all it taught me to help others unconditionally and to embrace all the responsibilities given to you. I use this lesson every day in my life, and I hope you might do the same because I strongly believe that if everyone in this world we live in would do this, it would be a better place to live.

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