It is never easy to lose anything or anyone. It’s like a part of you is ripped out of your chest. The initial shock is the worst, once you think you’re over it, it just comes back like a nightmare. You never expect it to happen, but it does and you must go along with what is happening. You think, “Why is this happening to me?” It could have happened to anyone. Truth is, I believe that these things happen to the people that are strong enough to handle the situation. I learned this the hard way when my father passed away on May 28th, 2017.
I remember getting the call. First I let it go to voicemail because it was his girlfriend and I thought she was calling me to talk about the fight that my father and I encountered two days before when I tried to take him to the hospital. He was always stubborn, and that was one thing we had in common. He had always taught me to stand my ground. However, when the call ended and I got the alert that I had one new voicemail, I ran up the stairs to go inside. I sat on my couch with my mom going about the typical “How was work? Did you have a good day?” conversation. Forgetting about the voicemail, I glanced down at my phone to check the time because I was tired between working two jobs and the commute from one to the other. That is when I listened to it, she sounded like she was crying through the simple fifteen second voicemail “Katherine, it’s me… I really need you to call me back. It’s an emergency, it’s about your father.”
I looked at my mom and started to panic. She sat next to me as I quickly called her back. When I spoke, I felt like I was shaking. Part of me knew because I know my father as well as I know myself. Actually, hearing someone say it out loud, though, that was the struggle. As I heard the words unfold out her mouth, I dropped my phone on the floor and immediately started crying. My mom quickly picked up the phone and started asking what was going on, and made plans to meet at the hospital within an hour. That whole drive to the hospital, I didn’t speak. All anyone would hear from me was gasping from heavy crying. There were so many calls that my mom made on the drive to the hospital. Out of all the calls, I can only really remember the one made to my God Brother. He and I shared the same heart ache.
At the hospital, my brother and I said our final thoughts. I finally calmed down after my two uncles and aunt came. I was thankful for them to make the drive to the hospital. I hadn’t seen them in so long, but when they came it was like we were never apart from an extended period. Everything felt natural with all the hugs and comforting.
That whole week was full of emotions. My father served Delta Airlines for twenty-two years, and we would often hear him refer to them as his “Delta Family.” I never understood that until I logged into Facebook when they had informed all employees of my father’s sudden passing. It was almost unreal. All the stories, photos, and personal messages from each one to my family. Each one so personal that reading them just made my family see why they were his second family. It even showed during the services when Delta offered a bus service to all the employees to come pay their respects. There were so many people at both funeral services that I couldn’t believe how loved my father was, and still is.
Though he is gone, I know he is still here. This is my story, and it makes me think how many of us are out there missing a parent or loved one? I know there are many of us going through the same emotions. The battle is tough, but we’re all going to get through it in time. We are all going to have our moments, but just always keep in mind you are never truly alone. It’s the people that come to support you that are going to be there for you in the long run. Take their comforting; do not second guess these friends because even if you had any problems with them or haven’t talked to them in a long time, they’re your forever. Also remember, just because these people are not physically here anymore, doesn’t mean they aren’t watching out for you. Just because you can’t see something, doesn’t mean that it’s not there.