My Father

My father has always been a wise and loud man. It seemed like he could solve all my problems with just a few simple words. He loved mornings and the day time he seemed to never need coffee. He was bright, bubbly and handsome his charms could win over practically anybody. But all that changed when he got sick. My father had been diagnosed with lung cancer, the doctor said he had about 4 months left. My family and I were devastated, but the one person who seemed the most upset was my father he hated himself. Thats the part that broke my heart the most he believed he was ruining our family. So with the limited time we had left it was just a waiting game. As time wore on, even though I prayed and hoped, my father got worse and worse. He rarely talked, hated the daytime, and grew bitter. He lost all his hair and grew thin and frail and seemed to have aged 10 years.

Everything had started getting really overwhelming, so one day I stepped out for a walk. I started walking in the forest outside our house, and as I was walking I heard strange rustling noises as I approached the noises I realized it was an owl jerking about. It looked like a sickly little creature with no feathers I watched it for a bit trying to figure out what was wrong, I realized it could not get up it was to weak and sick. I rushed home as fast a I could, grabbed a shoebox and a towel and rushed to where I had left the sick owl. I wrapped in a towel and placed it into the shoebox and took it home. When I got home I was afraid of my family’s reaction to the bird, I knew there would be one person that would be happy I saved it and that was my father, he had always loved the wisdom and majesticness of owls. Boy was I wrong, My father hated the bird. I never knew why, but he wanted nothing to do with it. So I kept the bird in my room as I took care of it. The bird never made noises and was calm. As the bird grew sicker and sicker my father grew sicker as well. And as I grew more and more fond of the owl I eventually decided to name the him, I called him Lason which means healer in greek. I felt like my father needed to grow fond of the bird and maybe it would heal him. So one morning I went into my father’s room and (against his will) offered to show him the bird. Let me just say, he was not happy. So as I went to pick up the bird, the bird decided to fly on top of my head and poop! I was so angry, but as the owl settled atop of my father’s bedpost I heard a faint laugh coming from my father which soon grew into large chuckles. It was so refreshing to hear him laugh again so I started laughing with him. As our laughter settled down I grabbed the Lason and told my father I was gonna go wash up, He stopped me and told me to leave him on the bed post. I did, and when I finished washing up I went to grab him from my father’s room but he asked me if the Lason could stay in the room with him. I have never seen the bird fly before, it seemed like he healed the minute he saw my father.






My father grew very fond of the Lason, he would talk to it pet it and sometimes try to feed him, It really seemed like things might be turning around. My father was able to get up and walk around the house and soon Lason had made a full recovery. My father was back to his real self happy and cheerful. The doctor had paid us a visit to asses my father’s condition and he said the cancer was going away. He said in a few months he would be in remission, We were all overjoyed. So the months passed and my father got better and better, he would take the owl outside and let it fly around thinking it would leave him to finally have its freedom back, but it never did. Lason soon grew old and so did my father, they died together the same night. It wasn't a surprise,they were spiritually connected I was always meant to find the bird and show it to my father, they were meant to save each other, and they did.