I woke up suddenly in a blur due to my mother coming into my room. I wondered if it was already morning yet. As she began to lead me out into our hallway I rubbed my eyes under my glasses trying to wake up. When I got near the door I looked up and saw my dad. Then took another glance, no it was my uncle. What is my uncle doing here at my house? At night time? I start to become confused and ask my mother what's going on. She answers with a quick worried look. Later on, I started to figure out that my dad was going to the hospital, but I did not know why.

    My mother soon decides to grab me some clothes real quick and send me with my aunt to spend the night to get some more sleep while they are at the hospital. As she frantically runs out the door to ride in the ambulance with my dad I walk out and go sit in my aunt's car. Worried and confused at this sudden commotion from being sound asleep, to sitting in my aunt's car as I stare at the dashboard. 

   The next morning I woke up tired due to tossing and turning trying to figure everything out in my 10yr head. After a few hours, I finally am on the way to the hospital to see my dad. I sit feeling more free on the 1-hour drive knowing I can talk to my dad and gather some answers. During the drive, my uncle explained some things, like how he had a stroke and that's why he was taken here. How it might be scary or worrisome to notice him for the first time. But I know I'm a big girl, I am strong. Once we finally arrive I am made to sit in the waiting room for several minutes waiting to go in with my aunt. My now more calmed self starts to finally walk towards his room, a little anxious due to not seeing my parents for a while.

    As I walk in everything stops, I am confused, shaken, and shocked. I stand there seeing my dad laying in the bed on a ventilator and he is asleep. Everything looks so strange. I can barely identify the man lying before me, having countless tubes and machines around him. I walk towards him hoping to wake him up and ask a question. But my mother stops me and says that he is in a coma. I stare confused and after a few minutes discover that it means he is asleep and unresponsive till he is out of the coma. I walk over to him and grab his hand, trying to talk to him. But no words come out, just tears. A great abundance of tears, then it turns into loud cries, then I can’t breathe. So they take me out of the room to go to the waiting room to chill out. 

   After that I became monotone, days turned into a week. A week of just going to the hospital all day and night, visiting my dad for 5-7 hours, and sitting in the waiting room for 10 hours. The waiting room became so familiar, I noticed every detail like it was my home. The family came, friends came, the pastor came, all to express their sorrow, and through it all, I just sat there watching everything happening in front of me like a movie.

   Then everything changed, later that night my mother came home. This was strange, she hasn’t been home for a while. But I put all those thoughts aside and continued to sleep soundly next to my mother. The next morning I find out my dad has passed. I don't cry, don't fret, I have no tears left to do that. I have accepted the outcome. For the whole week, I had cried constantly and been told what might happen. So I just take it and accept it. 

   As unusual as that is for a kid, I was different. Just like how everyone goes through a loss differently and reacts differently. Still, I think that to this day my dad would be proud of me. As I'm gonna be getting my license next year, I want to go into criminal justice, and I'm not scared, or sad anymore. I have changed completely from when I was in 5th grade and I'm proud of myself. But for as long as I live I will always remember that week.