As a child, I shared a strong bond with my father similar to that of a mother-daughter relationship. It was as if he had carried me the same way a male penguin carries his children. In today's society, the correct way to describe me as a child would have been a spoil brat. There was nothing I ever had to desire, for he would use the emotional channel we shared to fill all my desires before I verbally expressed them. Saturday mornings were always spent at the fishing lake, and an evening concert followed in which we would sing our theme song. "Hey Mia, look out your window. Here comes yo daddy, yo butt-kickin daddy," he would harmonize terribly. I would then follow, "My big-bad daddy." We would then burst into laughter. This was our regular, irreplaceable routine. The love I shared for my father could never be described, for it's beyond words.
My sleep would come easily just knowing that the next morning I could be with my father again. Well at least I thought so. About 3:00 A.M. one morning, my brother and I were awoken by a sharp, loud cry. Rushing around the corner, I witnessed a site that I can never erase. I watched helplessly as my father took his last breadth and let go of life peacefully. After ambulance arrived, my brother and I were rushed out of the house to my grandmother's house still in our pajamas. After waiting about thirty minutes, the phone rang only to confirm what I already knew. My father had passed in his sleep. From that point onward however our emotional channel still seemed to exist. I felt that although my father passed, he still was s alive, that is within me.
I believe that although someone can be here today and gone tomorrow, they still remain forever. I believe life is everlasting.
Today, I stand proud, for I have grown into a very bright and successful young woman. I feel that part of me doing so is due to by father. His wise and intelligent thinking has been placed in my inward parts, and they guide me in a successful manner. Without a doubt, I am by father.
I frequently find myself in the backyard sitting in the abandoned boat we once fished in. I can still hear him singing in the back of my head. I sit alone, yet I'm not. My father died September 14, 2006, however he has been living and continues to do so as long as I live. I believe death is a physical action only sweeping away the outer body, but the inner self floats on and lives within its' match. I believe life is everlasting.
