To me, it felt like any other day. I didnât pick up the signs that he was dying. I thought he was just ill and was going to get better, but what child ever thinks that the person theyâre so dependant on would ever leave them?
I remember it like it was yesterday: I was just a young, innocent child. I'd stepped steadily down the stairs as he lay quietly on a hospital bed. The entire family gathered around him like a herd of lions protecting their young whilst I was crouched at the bottom of the stairs packing my belongings. Giggling, I was getting ready to go to my auntieâs house, where I never stay, I was so excited.. I kissed everybody goodnight and was told to say goodbye. I didnât realise at the time that it would be the last goodbye. He held my head with his dying hands and kissed my forehead for the last time. Then as I stepped my tiny, petite legs out the doorway I could smell the morphine in the air; I could smell the Cancer.
The next morning when my Mum collected me I was telling her about how much fun Iâd had. I feel so guilty now remembering. At first you could only hear the engine from the car until we'd stopped. I knew something was wrong. My stomach hurt for a moment, as I had no idea of what I was about to be told. After the awkward silence she choked up the strength to tell me whatâd happened. Iâd never seen her so vulnerable. Shaking with fear, her lips trembled as she spoke. I felt guilty for laughing and enjoying myself. I felt guilty for being a child. It made me realise so young, how quickly someone can leave your life. In a blink of an eye my entire life turned upside down. He had passed.
Sitting scared, staring out the window in the back of the car, holding back the tears; that was the day that changed me.
I never cried though, not even at the funeral. I remember it well, being woken up that morning, a fortnight later, being told to 'dress up and look smart'. Then being told there was a âpartyâ afterwards. How can you celebrate that someone had just passed away? I was only a child at the time and apparently it was to celebrate their life and that theyâve gone to a happier place where theyâll no longer be in pain or suffering. That made me feel happier.
I wish now, that I could change the first time I thought it was wise to keep things bottled up. I didnât want anyone to think I was weak and couldnât cope. I never had any intentions of telling anybody how I felt and kept myself to myself, like a wall was blocking me from sharing my emotions. I was nine years old and no longer a child.
Ever since his passing, I make sure I tell my family everyday just how much I love them. When I put the phone down, when they leave the house or just when I want them to know how much they mean to me, I tell them. My view on smoking changed from then on too. I always thought it was harmless but when I realised, as such a young child that it can kill people, I soon became defensive. I try all the time to stop friends from smoking by telling them my story and how smoking affected our family. I attempt to help people and prevent them from suffering the way, the child I once was, did.
I will remind my family of him sitting in his chair with an oxygen mask on, painfully coughing and struggling to breathe.
Itâs never easy losing someone you love but its made me stronger and realise how quickly life can change whether its for the good or the bad. It still hurts to this day. I still hear the song 'Dance with my father again' and cry on my own. I often stare up at the stars and talk to him. Although he's gone, I'll never ever forget. I may have a new one now, but he'll always be my daddy!
My cheeks are soaked and my hands trembling as I sit here typing my story and reliving what happened. Now barely fifteen years old, I can still see his face staring back at his little girl.
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