My father passed away a little over 8 years ago. Still to this day, I don’t really know how he died. But from time to time, I remember being woken up by my mom saying that I had to go to the hospital with her. I was 14, I had no idea why. I remember walking through the the doors of the Brockton Hospital and being escorted by a paramedic to a room. Both my sisters and my niece are crying. Again, me being 14, I didn’t really understand what this all meant. I clearly knew it wasn’t good. So my niece takes me to the room where my father was laying. My brother was standing there just bawling his eyes out. I finally realized what’s happening. I try to fight this memory all the time. There is nothing that brings me to tears faster than closing my eyes and remembering from when I woke up to when I came home and my step dad not having a clue what to say to me. In mid 2011, I got a call from my sister saying that my brother passed away. Just a few months ago I got a call saying that my great niece got hit by a car down the street from where I was working.
It’s safe to say that I fight being upset far more than I’d like. I fight thoughts every day. Anything in a movie about a dad being sick or dying, I pretty much breakdown. I don’t even know why I’m saying all of this. I’ve never really told anyone this. So here I am telling a couple hundred people who probably don’t give a shit. Which is fine, I don’t expect anyone to care about my fight. But maybe if I get this out of my head, it won’t eat at me as much as it does.