Thinking how the last thing I told him was “yeah right” and then cried more. Later my grandma came in and told me that later that day we would be able to go see him. So I went out and sat with my two brothers. We hugged and tried to reassure each other “he was always tough, he can make it out of this” but no one felt any better. We paced, we’d fake a smile at each other, and even tried cleaning the house to pass time. Finally we went and saw him. I saw him hooked up to all the machines and just lost it. The toughest man I’ve ever known, Mr. ex-Marine hardass, was laying helpless on the bed.
He had even broken both the equipment and a tooth trying to get un-hooked. I ran to my mom and started crying. We sat around for a while and eventually I had to go home. But every day I would go back to the hospital, lie next to him, and lie about how fantastic things were going. Maybe I would say I was playing football and sacked the quarterback. Maybe I would tell him I got a 100 on a test. But I made up a lie, kissed him on the cheek and stayed as long as I could. Later that week my birthday came. Early in the day I went told my lie, kissed him on the cheek and then left for my birthday party.
The girl I liked was coming and I just finished going through puberty, I was ready to get some. No matter how much I hate the thought, or how selfish I feel, not a single thought of my dad passed through my mind until I opened his present to me. Then I dropped to me knees. No tears. I just dropped to my knees for a second, before opening it up; a caricature painting of me. Later when it came up to blowing out the candles I thought about him once more, then blew off the thought and wished I would get together with my crush (which later I did)
The Essay on Cherry Tree Becuase Thought Lie
washintong dissgreded with all of the folloing in this lifetime he felt, that if a boy had a tree mother than he wouldn't of shoped downthe cherry tree. he thought that if he did it it would not be lie. so her told george senior that he did not chop down the cherry tree and there fore he used it as a part of his politicl campagin in which it was a thought that he was such a honest person that he ...
A week later I decided that I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to stay with him, so they let me and I stayed the night. (Being barely ten I didn’t realize they had taken him off life support that day) before I went to sleep I went over and held his hand for a while, and let out the truest cry known to man. I didn’t weep, I didn’t even budge. The only movement in my whole body was the slow trickle of tears from my eyes, to the ground. Soon, having no choice I let go and stood up. Next the most unlikely and greatest thing happened.
I swear he reached up and tried to grab my hand again. When I woke up he was dead. It was over. Now I have grown up without a dad. Eventually I got used to it. Some days were better than others. I grew up more mature than everyone else and for a while people distanced themselves from me. I mean who wants to hang out with the socially awkward depressed kid? But it’s okay. I liked the solitude. Even later I became a /b/rother and found baww threads. Every single thread I’m in I think of my dad and how much I miss him and wish things would’ve have been different.
I know things could’ve been different. It kills me that I had no control over what happened. I hate myself. I’m just going to say it now, and for the most childish reasons. first, i hate myself because the last things I said to my dad were me being and immature asshole. i hate myself because even though I know its bullshit I feel like I could’ve used that wish to save his life. I hate myself because I don’t think I have made him proud. everything I do, I do for him, trying to make him proud. I will always love you dad. I may not have known you longer but I will never
