English Composition I
English Composition I EN1320
Unit 3 Assignment
Memoir (Revised)
Sam Kerns
10/2/2013
Devastation I remember that call as if it were yesterday. I knew it was important to take that call from my dad. I sometimes wish I’d never taken that call that night at my friend’s place. Then again, I’m glad I did. I walked to the outside balcony of my friend’s second story apartment. The air was pretty crisp and the only light was from the light poles around the parking lot. I answered the phone nervously. “I got back the results of all my tests and I’d like everyone to get together this Sunday for dinner so that we can discuss what is going on with my legs.” my dad said. The news hit me like a wrecking ball, and my heart sunk to my stomach like a demolished building to the ground. He didn’t even have to tell me, I just knew. The next evening, I had come back from my friend’s house after running around town with them for a few hours. My grandma, with a distinct sadness in her eyes, gave me the news I had already figured out. I didn’t react with any sign of emotion at that time. That’s how I deal; I just bottle it up and stay as strong as stone. At the time, it may have seemed like I was cold and emotionless, much like a robot, in which I take a high interest. (A great advance in technology, I might add.) Once I had time to process the news, it didn’t go well at all. The emotions it stirred inside me whirled like a terrible hurricane. How could this terminal disease threaten my time with my dad? How could he be taken from me at such an early age? Unanswerable questions raced through my head, bringing on more and more anger and confusion. All I wanted to do was run. Run from my grandparents’ house where I was staying, and just get away from everyone and everything. Run was exactly what I did. Not the best choice in my life, but it seemed to be the only thing that would help me cope at the time. If I don’t have to face the issue, then maybe it
Unit 3 Assignment
Memoir (Revised)
Sam Kerns
10/2/2013
Devastation I remember that call as if it were yesterday. I knew it was important to take that call from my dad. I sometimes wish I’d never taken that call that night at my friend’s place. Then again, I’m glad I did. I walked to the outside balcony of my friend’s second story apartment. The air was pretty crisp and the only light was from the light poles around the parking lot. I answered the phone nervously. “I got back the results of all my tests and I’d like everyone to get together this Sunday for dinner so that we can discuss what is going on with my legs.” my dad said. The news hit me like a wrecking ball, and my heart sunk to my stomach like a demolished building to the ground. He didn’t even have to tell me, I just knew. The next evening, I had come back from my friend’s house after running around town with them for a few hours. My grandma, with a distinct sadness in her eyes, gave me the news I had already figured out. I didn’t react with any sign of emotion at that time. That’s how I deal; I just bottle it up and stay as strong as stone. At the time, it may have seemed like I was cold and emotionless, much like a robot, in which I take a high interest. (A great advance in technology, I might add.) Once I had time to process the news, it didn’t go well at all. The emotions it stirred inside me whirled like a terrible hurricane. How could this terminal disease threaten my time with my dad? How could he be taken from me at such an early age? Unanswerable questions raced through my head, bringing on more and more anger and confusion. All I wanted to do was run. Run from my grandparents’ house where I was staying, and just get away from everyone and everything. Run was exactly what I did. Not the best choice in my life, but it seemed to be the only thing that would help me cope at the time. If I don’t have to face the issue, then maybe it