February 6, 2005 started off a normal day for my family but would shortly turn into a family’s worst nightmare. Like most weekends we were awaiting the arrival of my dad, who is often away due to business. This time he was in Las Vegas. My mom, my sister Taylor, and I were all sitting around the dinner table talking about our day when we got a phone call from my dad. An unsuspecting illness had landed him in the hospital, but according to him he would be fine and on his way home in no time. Because of his reassuring words and his positive attitude my sister and I thought nothing of this and went to bed, anxiously waiting for him to get home.

Three o’clock in the morning I woke up to the phone ringing. Thoughts started racing through my mind: Who could be calling this late? What’s so important? Why can’t it wait ‘til morning? Why did my mom actually answer? And It’s probably just a prank. Or maybe a telemarketer. That’s when I realized it was a phone call I wish had never been made. The doctor had called telling my mom of a situation that had come up with my father. My mom told me he had had a heart attack and would need immediate surgery if we ever wanted to see him again. Since my sister who was only nine at the time had not been awoken from the call my mom opted not to wake her with the bad news. Instead, we would wait until the morning to let her know. My mom told me to go back to sleep, but how could I when across the country my dad was fighting for his life?

Morning came and my mom informed Taylor about my dad and that my grandparents would be getting us for school and she would be boarding a plane for Vegas at ten o’clock that morning. The next hours were the worst hours of my life. I wanted nothing but to stay at home, but my mom needed me to go in order to make things as normal as possible for my little sister. That’s when it hit me, that when I wanted to cry the most, I not only had to be strong for me I also had to be strong for Taylor.

My parents ended up staying in Vegas for another whole week, all this time I was unable to even talk to my dad. He was on so many medications that he wouldn’t even be able to understand me. Days passed until they finally came home.

February 14, 2005 started off a normal day for my sister and me but would shortly turn into a day that I will never forget. Because that was the day my father finally came home. With a smile on his face and tears rolling down his cheeks this was the only time in my life that I have ever seen him cry.