Personal Narrative: The Day My Father Changed My Life

“Run! You got this Hannah!”, shouted my dad. Hearing him cheer me on urged me to play tougher, run faster, kick the ball harder. I passed to one of my teammates, she scored, and the crowd went wild. I turned towards my dad and saw his smile explode across the field making me feel like the utmost adored person in the world. This was my junior year. It has been three months since my father abruptly died. I spent time with him on Sunday and he was gone on Monday. I felt desolate, heartbroken, and resentful. I could have succumbed to my sadness or even gone insane, but I elected to go on. If my dad were alongside me now, he would say, “Hanzie, you’ve been through enough to know that life’s not fair. It will never be fair. Push through it, and you’ll be okay.”
He had remained my steadfast fan, timelessly rooting for me even if I did not warrant it, as well as my teacher and my other half throughout my entire life. Everyone discouraged me from viewing the body, but I knew I would never truly believe that he was gone until I had proof. Seeing him catalyzed my brain’s comprehension that he was gone and helped me accept that I needed to move forward. The day my dad died altered my life forever not only as a result of losing the most significant person in my life, but also because knowing that he is watching over me today propels me to be a better