While I was in school, I was assigned a task I didn't really expect.
The assignment was, "Tell me a life changing event and tell me how you have changed since that event."
Automatically, I knew the story I was going to tell.
I'd like to share with Witty.
I might have once shared a little bibt of the story, but now I'm going to tell the whole story.
A little bit about me everyone should know is that I live with my mother, sister and grandparents.
When I was seven years old, thirty-four days before my eighth brithday, my father died.
That morning went normal, I woke up, and being a little kid, I was overjoyed that it was a new day.
I remember that morning, though, that I was feeling off - something strange was in the atmosphere.
Of course, I didn't think anything of this - I was seven years old!
So the day went on, and it turned out to be my favorite time of the year.
Halloween was in less than 30 days, and my family always went all-out on this holiday.
My mother, sister, grandmother and I decided to go pumpkin-picking.
In my little neighborhood, my house is known for our pumpkins.
We always had at least eight pumpkins carved and displayed in the front.
My father, that day, decided to stay home and at some point go to Home-Depot.
As we started leaving, my father stopped me in our porch.
He hugged me, and I will forever remember the last words I ever heard him speak.
"I love you, peanut. I'll see you later."
So I hugged him goodbye and as I pulled away, I felt his stubble from his unshaven beard on my right cheek.
When we got home hours later, with ten pumpkins, my fathers red truck was gone.
We assumed he had just gone to Home-Depot and would be back soon.
Soon turned into hours, and eventually it hit 4 in the evening.
Our fears were answered when two police cars showed up at my front yard.
They asked for everyone to come outside, and weirdly enough, even my dog to come out.
So we all gathered, my mother is tearing up and I'm petting my dog - being oblivious because I didn't know.
The last words I remember coming out of anyone's mouth that day were "he was dead on impact."
I sat, petting my dog, pretending to cry, on the ground, next to my sister.
I remember that night, my sister, mother and I all went to bed in the same bed.
When I was finished telling this story - I wasn't sure what had changed me through it.
But I soon figured out that I changed from this happening to me because now - now I don't live my life like I will live forever.
My father was 35 when he died in that car accident. Today he would have been 47 years old.
I also know that since he died, I sure as hell haven't held back from anything.
I know that if I were to unexpectedly die, at least I know I would have lived my life to the fullest.
I try not to live my life in fear since he died.
Naturally, it's kind of difficult to - since whenever someone says "bad news", I always resort to someone is dead.
And naturally, even though I drive, and have to drive to get to most places, I am terrified of cars.
But regardless, even though I miss my dad terribly, I've learned a lot from him - even from beyond the grave.
Two days ago, was the first time I visited his gravesite since he died.
I don't know what I was expecting, but I felt relieved when I finally visited.
I saw the flag that they put there, to honor him for his time served, and smiled.
I was always afraid I would end up crying, or hating who I was because I hadn't ever visted him.
But when I went, I felt relieved because I know he would be proud of who I am today.
He knows the mistakes I have made, and everything else, but I know he would still love me.
It feels amazing to finally know where he is burried and that I can now visit whenever I can.
February 20, 1967 - October 6, 2002
You are forever my hero, Vati.
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