A Letter To Every Girl

Story Of Me: The Lost Daughter

A long time ago,back when I was a little baby,I lost my mother due to an aneurism (aka sudden unexpected death)

Pretty much for the rest of my life,up until I was ten I lived with my brother and dad. We were happy that way,I grew up with about eight "aunts/mothers" and twelve,yes twelve "uncles and father's" but my true dad was my best friend.

He used to try to take me to the gun range,we went to rodeos,Downtown Colorado,and all the way up The Rocky Mountains just for blue bell ice cream in the cold. He took my brother and I sledding,where I tragically ran into a fence and escaped without a single scratch.

Fourth grade was tough on me. I didn't understand any math,I hardly knew how to divide,my grade was barely passing. That didn't change up until my freshmen year of highschool,but that's later.

My dad was the best man I had ever known,and then everything best about him sort of seemed to fade away.

Looking back now,I noticed his constant nose bleeds that I some how inherited, his coughing,and how he just kinda let his personality die.

That summer we found out he had stage three breast cancer. I didn't understand,I never once thought that he'd be gone.

For years I watched him work two jobs and return at 3:00 in the morning and I'd come running downstairs with a plate of spaghetti for him,he never told me to go back to bed once. I guess he wanted all the time he could get.

I remember sitting with him throughout numerous chemotherapy treatments, and seeing him stick a needle in his side, and telling me to turn away so I didn't have to see.

Sometimes he would cough and it would last for ten minutes,and other times he was fine. He lost his hair and his eyebrows which I still think is hilarious. Thinking of him with no eyebrows.

One night before our move to Texas he pulled me into his bedroom and he was crying. He held a tiny bottle in his hands and he explained "This is a bottle of holy oil. I'm going to put it on you so you never have to worry." He put it on my forehead and prayed over me.

I'm now sixteen and I'm still in perfect condition.

We moved to Texas and his health went downhill faster.
I walked into his bedroom and told him about my day and he said "MaMa,They're coming!" Pointing to a football team huddled up.

I was confused my aunt and I went to pick up my brother from football practice and she told us that our dad was losing his memory. His mind was shutting down. His body soon would too

I didn't understand still,but my brother did.

Dad was checked into Good Shepard Hospital where he needed a catheter and a walker.

Months after that it was Beacon Hospice,where he couldn't write his name,his words were equivalent to baby babbles, and he couldn't remember his wife's name,his best friends name,his own name,or anything for that matter.

But he remembered his children's names,and it was the only thing he could pronounce properly. That in itself was a blessing.

My aunts mother had told us that his cancer was terminal.

In September, 23 2010,at 4:00 in the morning my aunt woke my brother and I up,sat us on the couch and told us our father had passed away,even then it didn't hit me.

October 2 came the funeral,and I still remember my dress. I still have it. I remember wanting to approach the casket but couldn't because every time I got close I shyed away.

Then Never Would've Made It played,his favorite song and I cried. I cried the whole thing through and had a migraine for days.

We buried him and he was given the little gun salute thing, and we were given a flag. I cried watching it being folded, my feet crunching into fake grass. Lowering him into the ground with baby pictures and family photos.

My life hasn't been the same since. I miss him everyday, I wish I could tell him some things,and I still see him in spirit sometimes and I hear his voice.

I'm a sixteen year old going into my junior year of highschool,I decides that everything I did from then on would be for my parents. No one else but them and myself.

I love my father and miss him but all things happen for a reason and this has brought out my talent of writing and made me stronger.

I still get sad and cry but I'm okay because if I have to take pain to get to success and an amazing life I'm ready for the journey. Throw stones at me because this is not the end and I refuse to fall and crumble,because I've been marching And although my feet ache I've got places to be and I won't stop.

I hope this helped anyone struggling with anything just remember the rain clears and then comes a rainbow.

Love,Makayla