Last Hours With My Step Dad

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
When my step-dad passed away, struggling throught the loss was a challenge most can relate to. But this is what I wrote. This is also on my other Booksie page that I will be deleting later on today or so. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. :)

Submitted: December 31, 2011

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Submitted: December 31, 2011



The date today is unknown. I am unknown. I walk through the white quiet halls worry in my eyes, weakness in my body, and dried tears on my eyes. passing by room after room, patient after patient. The smell of sickness, the weak, the old. Waiting for their time to end. For the cure to get better, for wounds to be healed, or the time were god leads you home. These hours are being wasted, "why would I sit here waiting for it to end? Why am I not in that room talking to him?", letting him know my thoughts, thanking him for being there everyday when life got harder. I refuse to stand tall. I refuse to keep walking forward without my best friend, my dad. I am told to be strong. I am told to pray and hope this will get better. Diagnosed with cancer. A sickness I know can not be healed. He would want me to though so I have not a choice but to be happy for him. For he's the strong one. He's the one still holding on. Waking up every morning is a challenge, Donovan my baby brother sits there and he cries, he's holding his hand and he won't let go. Tears are running down my face and I have to remove myself. I don't let no one see me. My thoughts are over filled with everything, questions I want to ask. This is were I start thinking about my own life, this is were I start blaming god for taking the one I truely need in life. I mean who else is going to help when mom gets drunk and leaves? Who else is going to buy us boots for winter, or binders for school?

We are here for a few days and everyday we head over to the hospital, tired and the nights being restless and sleepless we get up and walk. We walk till we can't. A video is being played and I missed it the first two times, so my sister Oona plays it just for me, as I'm watching I am surprised, my dad got his wish...he's happy in these pictures even though he's weak and struggles to walk. He is placed in a wheel chair. He still accepted life even though life is tearing him down. My thoughts are rushing, should I hug my dad for being tough through all these years? should I thank dad for being the only one to understand me and my problems and handing me a bible to read when life got tough, or when I cried and how he was the first to the scene to whipe my tears away and replace my frown with a smile. There are many reason why I should get up and hug my dad, but with everyone around there is no chance for me to say anything so I pray for him. Days like this go on and I am tired, I don't wanna leave him just yet, but I don't have a choice I am forced to leave. I am leaving back to Regina. To the grouphome where I know there is someone to talk to. On my way, I tell God to keep him safe, to keep him breathing, to keep him strong. Now that I think of it, this is selfish. So I begin by telling God, asking Him to take him home, and make sure he is safe. I am looking out the window watching the telephone posts pass by so fast. Looking up at the sky. Reminding myself that we will be going back to the hospital to see my step dad again in the next few days.

I attend school everyday, I do the things I am suppose to do. But during my free time I just sit in my room, staring at the wall. Looking out my window. Writing in my journal. Mitch, one of the many staff that work there, comes in and he talks to me about my dad. I look at him and I start to cry. I am weak through this. I am unable to keep smiling. But Mitch pointed out the better part.

"He will be fine" he says.

Today the date is September 25th, 2009. I wake up at 7:30, shower. Brush my teeth. And my bag is already packed. Today is the day I go back and see my dad in the hospital. I'm walking down the stairs, and there stands Carla. She looks at me, I look at her. Slowly and slowly as I walk up to her I feel like she's going to tell me something, so I wait till I'm seated in front of her.

"Dana, your social worker called earlier this morning."

"Okey, what did she say?"

I'm looking at her. She's looking at me.

"Your dad passed away 8:00am this morning".-She tries reaching out to me, but I stand back. I'm about to fall. I'm about to fall is all I'm thinking, my body is getting weak and my tears start to stream. I have a sat and I'm looking down at the floor. The day consisted of sitting in my bedroom thinking, until I hear a little knock at my door.

"Come in" I say. Mitch is standing there looking at me, he knows I've been crying, he knows what I've been thinking the whole day.

Slowly, as he's standing there he lifts his arms up and reaches for me. I get up and walk towards him and it's like I run right into his arms. I'm crying but not enough for anyone else to hear me only Mitch knows. We sit there and he tells me all that I need to know and do. He tells me he will always be there to talk to. The following days are the same, no eating, no sleeping, I don't even attend the groups that are we are suppose to attend. Finally we get picked up to go to the reserve for the wake services. Daniel is the first to walk up to were our dad lays. He begins to cry and followed with a bloody nose. Daniel sits there and he cries. He cries long and hard. I'm standing behind him, holding onto his shoulders. I'm not ready. I'm not doing this. I can't see my dad look so peaceful, I just can't. And no matter how many times I tell myself to walk out I push my legs forward and keep walking. As soon as I approach him my body is already feeling weak, and when I see my dad thin, cold, but peaceful. I cry. The ceremony is in progress it takes place in the school gym, dads brother lays peacefully beside his coffin as well. Both are being burried today, both have been put to rest. We pray, listening to the priest talk. And then people walk around to pay their last respects, and we sit there and have everybody shake our hands and tell us to stay strong. Donovan sits beside me, he cried. Daniel sits beside Donovan and he's taking it hard. Bonnie comes around and as she's shaking my hand she leaves a ring in my hand, and tells me to keep it. To have it. I take it.

We take our turns carrying the coffin, and we take our turns shoveling. And I'm crying as the bodies are lifted down into the ground....."Time to rest, dad. I love you always".

The morning light emerges from my window, a new day has begun and I'm heading back to school. My English A30 teacher gives me two envelopes, enclosed with two sympathy cards. There is one signed by the whole class and one from the teachers. I wait to open them till I get home. I am sitting in my desk and put my head down. I'm crying in class but no body sees it, so I get up as the teacher is teaching and I walk out the door and sit outside the class and cry. Miss Hunko comes out and we the end she hugs me and says she will stand by my side through this. I thank her, and I head back down to the ranch room and I just sit there.

"What's wrong Dana, Why are you not in class?" Quinton asks me.

"I can't consentrate in class, Miss Hunko says I can work down here" I say. Later I head up to my third period class.

My math teacher greets me with a hug and apologizes for my dad. My soccer coach takes me out for lunch and I tell her all about those rough days in the hospital, how rough everything just got, and how I wanted to give up. She is not only my soccer coach, but she is my best friend. There are many people to talk to, and many people who will take time out of their lives to share with me. For once I appreciate everybody, I like the people that spend their time with me. This is were I learned the true meaning of love, friendship, family and life. True friends will always be by your side through thick and through thin.

© Copyright 2018 Dana Henderson. All rights reserved.

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