On October 27, 2011 my father had passed away. He died of a heart attack. He was a truck driver for FED-EX Freight. He was getting in his truck but started having chest pains. My father has a history of heart problems and has had a heart attack before. Anyway, he lost control of his balance and fell out of his truck and landed on that pavement. The hard fall caused him to bash his head and knock the stints out of his heart. One of his Co-Workers came running toward him and discovered my father was unconscious. He admittedly called 911. The paramedics came and rushed him to the hospital but, it was too late. They lost him before they arrived. As of today it was the hardest day of my life. At the time I was attending East Central College. I remember getting a call on my way to class. I was completely devastated. Knowing my father and I did not have the best relationship so it was even hard to face. I remember pulling over because I was in no condition to drive. I knew that I had to be there at the hospital shortly because my family was waiting on me to get there so I could view the body. It is bad enough I do not take death all that great. Who doesn’t though?
I go to the hospital and I see my dad’s body and for the first time in a long time I broke down and cried. It takes a lot for me to cry. My stomach not only dropped but, I felt a piece of me leave my soul. I have always wanted a good relationship with him and I was working on it and everything else. We never know why things happen, they just do. Sometimes we do not get the best outcome on why things happen and I can witness that. It’s still hard for me to talk about because I still search for answers why I never was given a chance to build that bond wi...
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...uld be going through emotional cycles for the rest of my life. Knowing he is no longer here and the fact I know longer have a chance to build a relationship with him. It is also hard when the holidays come around and not having him there to enjoy the fun times you have with family. It has all changed. Things just aren’t the same without him here. Then you have the death anniversaries and his birthdays plus your own. I miss when he used to call to wish me a happy birthday. He never forgot. However, last year my step mom did forget and I was heartbroken. My short term effects would be getting through my wedding. I reached the hard parts of it all and I never have to go through it again. It was hard for me because he was not there to walk me down the aisle or dance with me but I came to accepting that. It’s the long term effects I have to deal with forever!
One summer I awoke to the chirping of my cell phone. I was really confused because I had a bunch of notifications. On a normal day I usually only have a couple. When I checked to see what they were, I discovered that they were all concerning my best friend. They all said “I’m so sorry for what happened.” I got really confused and stumbled down the stairs to talk to my mom. When I saw her, she had tears running down her face and she said “He’s gone.” My emotions hit me like a runaway train and I immediately went into a depression. The grieving process had just started and it was awful. Eventually, I knew it was necessary in order to heal. Grief marks our memories with sadness and pain; however, this way of coping is the essential key to moving on with our lives.
Although I endured a similar experience, I had a totally different reaction when my father died in 2006. I could not be by his side because of extenuating circumstances, but I was emotionally distraught and concerned with my father’s passing
I have felt the pain of the loss of a Sister; have felt the pain of the death of my Mother, and felt the death of my Father. I know how it feels. I experienced it. It is painful, looking at those old kind folks who bore you; who took care of you; went through all kinds of sacrifices and pains just to look after you for years and years, until one day the child stood on one’s own two feet, and then … there they are, the parents, helpless and lifeless in front of you.
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
My great grandfather death was the earliest loss experience I can remember. He was put on hospice for a few months and died from prostate cancer on August 10, 2007 in the living room of my basement. I was eleven years old when he passed away and recall standing beside his bed when he took his last breath. Given that we had him in the house three months before he passed away, I not only remember him dying, but also remember witnessing his body slowly shutting down as the days passed by. My grandmother and her sisters would change him everyday, give him water with a dropper and talk to him for hours on end. We knew his last day was approaching quickly and decided to be proactive and begin the funeral arrangements. My mother and I were at the flower shop ordering the flowers when we received a phone call from my grandmother. I answered the phone and could hear her holding back the tears as she informed us that he was starting to slip away.
How do you come to terms with the loss of your beloved father? How do you find happiness again? How do you move forward despite your aching heart, emptiness and sadness? It's like I'm in the midst of a nightmare that doesn't disappear when I wake up. I desperately want to find peace within myself about my father's death. I want my faith to reassure me that my dad is still with me in spirit. I think if I take this time to share the kind of man my father was, we might all feel like he is still very much alive.
Jonathan is a young adult who does not know what to think for reason that his father is sick in a hospital bed...dying. Dying is an alarming and touchy topic to talk about, but with the presence of loved ones, it does not have to be so bad. . Family members are shocked and saddened, being surrounded by loved ones comforts people, and the approach one takes to dealing with the situation can relieve a large amount of the patient’s emotional strain.
Sitting there, in that moment, I felt my heart pounding, palms sweating, pulse racing, cheeks scalding, and throat swelling. The room was spinning and crashing into a heap of tragedy that I was so unprepared to face, I would rather die than continue on knowing the inevitable was to approach in six months time. As my father held my hand, I was terrified to look him in the face as he was informing me of the horrible sickness that was consuming him from the inside out, but I forced myself to glance into his eyes. I have never seen my father cry; yet, at that moment, I saw a pool of tears in his already red, swollen eyes. My once invincible, strong, hero of a dad was now speaking with a trembling voice that I could do nothing to comfort. All the times he had wiped my tears and made my problems disappear when
A few days later my mom had sent me and my brother back to school.There was a knock on the door and it turns out to be two detectives to collect my mother's statement as to what happened since they had gotten a report from others.My mother had told them that they weren't going to hear the last moments of her life but her life story from the time that she came into this world until the time she left it.By the time my mother had finished the two men were in tears then they left.Days later the same two men showed up with a check in hand for five hundred dollars to help pay for my sister's funeral from them and the police department where they worked.She was buried on December 24th.What I have learned from this experience is that you have to cherish what you have before it is gone and it's too
I believe in jesus christ, how he died for me on the cross, how he gave his life for me and my family and friends, how he's coming back to take me to heaven with him so I can see all of my family and friends that he has took on the live with him..
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
Imagine growing up without a father. Imagine a little girl who can’t run to him for protection when things go wrong, no one to comfort her when a boy breaks her heart, or to be there for every monumental occasion in her life. Experiencing the death of a parent will leave a hole in the child’s heart that can never be filled. I lost my father at the young of five, and every moment since then has impacted me deeply. A child has to grasp the few and precious recollections that they have experienced with the parent, and never forget them, because that’s all they will ever have. Families will never be as whole, nor will they forget the anguish that has been inflicted upon them. Therefore, the sudden death of a parent has lasting effects on those
Two years and four months ago I died. A terrible condition struck me, and I was unable to do anything about it. In a matter of less than a year, it crushed down all of my hopes and dreams. This condition was the death of my mother. Even today, when I talk about it, I burst into tears because I feel as though it was yesterday. I desperately tried to forget, and that meant living in denial about what had happened. I never wanted to speak about it whenever anyone would ask me how I felt. To lose my Mom meant losing my life. I felt I died with her. Many times I wished I had given up, but I knew it would break the promise we made years before she passed away. Therefore, I came back from the dead determined and more spirited than before.
In my life time, I have experienced many deaths. I have never had anyone that was very close to me die, but I have shed tears over many deaths that I knew traumatically impacted the people that I love. The first death that influenced me was the death of my grandfather. My grandfather passed away when I was very young, so I never really got the chance to know him. My papaw Tom was my mothers dad, and she was very upset after his passing. Seeing my mom get upset caused me to be sad. The second death that influenced my life was the death of my great grandmother. My great grandmother was a very healthy women her whole life. When she was ninety three she had
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...