Personal Narrative - Suicide and the Death of My Father

522 Words3 Pages
The Death of My Father My father and I went hiking together just about every year since I was born. Some years it would be just the two of us, and some years my brother David would come too. When we first begin doing this, we used to stay in our own tent that we would carry upon our backs, but as my father got older, we gradually shifted from tents to staying in lean-tos, then log shelters, and finally to the comfort of the huts that the Appalachian Mountain Club runs on some of the ranges in the White Mountains. With these huts, you get to the top of a peak and find blankets and a hot meal waiting for you. My father and I left three days ago for our annual hike. On our second day, two days ago, we had had a long, but good, day. We had made it most of the way up Mount Lafayette on the edge of the beautiful Pemigwaset wilderness, and we pulled into the Appalachian Mountain Club hut there for a meal. We were enjoying our dinner together, and he was looked comfortable and content. Just before dessert was to be served, my father suddenly slumped forward in his seat and died. Halfway through our hike on the day that he died, I thought my father might have looked a little tired, and I suggested that perhaps we should turn around and take an easier route to a different hut, but he didn't want to. He said that he was doing fine and that besides, we had already made reservations at this particular hut. I said to him: "If something happens to you, do you want people to say `He kept on going because he didn't want to lose his hut reservation?" And he replied, "I think that if something happened, they'd say: `he did it because that's who he was.'" I can say that he died peacefully in a beautiful place and I can say that he probably died proud, not just proud of the determined recovery he had made from a car accident this past winter, but proud of living his life as he always had - making his own choices and choosing his own path. But these things will never be any real consolation to us for the 20 years more that my father should have been with us, sharing his unique mix of stubbornness, humor, wisdom, cynicism, and especially love - a love of life, a love of his family and a love of his community.

More about Personal Narrative - Suicide and the Death of My Father

Open Document