Important Person in My Life
Most Important Person In My Life
In 2007 the most important, the most inspiring man I have ever met was taken from me. My Dad died unexpectedly from a heart condition that he was suppose to recover from in five days. My Dad was so amazing. He had read so many books all his life that I can’t ever match what he read. He was a High School graduate from Brooklyn who was elegant and highly intelligent. He was wise, kind and extremely funny. Everyone respected and loved him.
He took such very good care of us, yes I was very spoiled. If I was sick after I moved out he would do my grocery shopping. I was very sick with the flu once,
Dad turned up with chicken soup. He saw how small my TV was and the next day he and My Mom turned up with a new TV. He guided me with both my profession and my vocation. He helped formed most of my political views though later I found my own way in all of this, and my Dad was my wisest adviser.
Yet, when he got sick I took on the responsibility to help with all the nonsense one has to put up with when dealing with our current healthcare system. I fought for him as much as I could to get him the best care that I personally could get for him. I yelled and screamed from time to time because of my outrage at his treatment at different times both in the hospital and at the skilled nursing facility later on. My Dad couldn’t speak so he pantomimed that I was his little fighter. Which was very sweet but I still felt that I had not done enough.
I was the one who found out he was gone, I had to tell my Mother. It was the hardest call I ever made. My hands were shaking as I pushed the buttons on the phone to tell her. I helped my Mom plan out the funeral. I have helped my Mom ever since but I wonder sometimes If I did enough. Both my Mom and Brother said
I did but I couldn’t help thinking if I was stronger I could have gotten him through it and he would still be here.
I had a horrible writers block after Dad passed
In 2007 the most important, the most inspiring man I have ever met was taken from me. My Dad died unexpectedly from a heart condition that he was suppose to recover from in five days. My Dad was so amazing. He had read so many books all his life that I can’t ever match what he read. He was a High School graduate from Brooklyn who was elegant and highly intelligent. He was wise, kind and extremely funny. Everyone respected and loved him.
He took such very good care of us, yes I was very spoiled. If I was sick after I moved out he would do my grocery shopping. I was very sick with the flu once,
Dad turned up with chicken soup. He saw how small my TV was and the next day he and My Mom turned up with a new TV. He guided me with both my profession and my vocation. He helped formed most of my political views though later I found my own way in all of this, and my Dad was my wisest adviser.
Yet, when he got sick I took on the responsibility to help with all the nonsense one has to put up with when dealing with our current healthcare system. I fought for him as much as I could to get him the best care that I personally could get for him. I yelled and screamed from time to time because of my outrage at his treatment at different times both in the hospital and at the skilled nursing facility later on. My Dad couldn’t speak so he pantomimed that I was his little fighter. Which was very sweet but I still felt that I had not done enough.
I was the one who found out he was gone, I had to tell my Mother. It was the hardest call I ever made. My hands were shaking as I pushed the buttons on the phone to tell her. I helped my Mom plan out the funeral. I have helped my Mom ever since but I wonder sometimes If I did enough. Both my Mom and Brother said
I did but I couldn’t help thinking if I was stronger I could have gotten him through it and he would still be here.
I had a horrible writers block after Dad passed