The Day My Father Passed Away

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I was 10 years old and it was a typical Wednesday morning. My dad woke me and my brother up for school. He then told us that he wasn’t going to work that day, because he didn’t feel good. He asked me to stay home with him; I told him I didn’t want to, because I had perfect attendance and we only had half a day. My brother stayed home with him instead. The day my father passed away, was the most devastating day of my life. When I got home my father seemed a lot sicker than he was earlier that morning. I asked him if he was ok and he said that he was fine. The three of us were cleaning the house, getting it ready for Christmas, which was only 2 weeks away. We had gotten our Christmas boxes from my Nana’s house and had made plans to pick out a tree that weekend. As the afternoon went on my father became more ill. Eventually locking himself in the bathroom. My father had been in the bathroom for an awfully long time. I knocked on the door and asked him if he was ok, he replied “yes I’m fine.” Some time had passed and again my brother and I knocked on the door again. This time when we asked him if he was ok his reply was simply “I want you guys to remember that I will always love you.” Even at 10 I knew that statement meant something bad was happening. I told my brother to run up to the corner store and use the pay phone to dial 911, because we did not have a house phone. While waiting for my brother to get back I tried to keep my father talking, which was unsuccessful. When my brother got back he was holding a candy bar, which made me really angry, because that meant he had used the money I gave him to call 911 to buy the candy bar. I ran up to the store and called 911. I could hear the sirens before I hung up the phone. The paramedics tried to open the bathroom door. It took 3 of them to get it open, because

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