My Dad

        Once upon a time, there was a man who fell in love with his female pen pal. When she came to visit him, they got married. This man and woman lived there life okay, even though they were poor. They had three daughters. (One was only stepdaughter to the man, but blah blah blah different post.) The man worked hard as a security guard to help support his family. When the woman could no longer work as a RPTA, the man had to work even harder. He liked his job, but wanted to be something different. He wanted to be a teacher. He attended college, while still keeping his job to support the family. When he graduated, everyone was happy. He applied to schools every where, while working as a substitute. He was finally offered a job. The family picked up their things and moved to a completely different state so this man could have his dream job. Just as his life was beginning to be wonderful, tragedy struck. This man is my father, and the tragedy I speak of is blindness.
        He was not rehired the next school year, and couldn't work anymore. He had to go to a city across state to attend a blind center. He could not be with his family anymore, and he became depressed. While he made many good friends at the blind center, he still had that sadness in him. When he came back, he was happy to be with his family again, but his vision was fading more and more, and being with them was not like it used to be. He could no longer see them like he wished to. As time went on, my family moved, once again, to a smaller town on the other side of the state. My father wanted to go back to college, but no matter how hard he tried, he never was able to attend. After a few years, he was able to teach braille at my school, but just to those who wanted to learn. I could tell that this made him happy. I was glad.
        Just as he had something great, another sad thing happened. Renal Failure. Those two words flipped his world upside down. He had to go to dialysis at our local hospital three times a week. He was getting more and more depressed as the days went on. He couldn't see his family anymore, and he was being stuck with huge needles three times a week. He was getting sicker and sicker. He went on home dialysis and seemed to get happier, but it didn't change the fact that he couldn't see. Finally, a door opened and a secret came out. One so dark and sad, that I can't tell you. No one knows this secret, but my family. It was a long time ago, and he felt horrible about it. He hated the guilt, so he told a counselor and my mother. He was put into a nursing home, and I wasn't allowed to see him until it was cleared by some people. The last time I spoke to him, he was crying. He kept saying sorry, and he told me that he almost tried to kill himself that day. All I did was cry, and my mom took the phone and yelled at him for telling me that. I wasn't able to make him promise. I wasn't able to ask him not to do it.
        The next morning, as I was getting ready for school, a police officer came to our front door and told my mother "Your husband took a serious attempt on his life early this morning. He is currently in the hospital.". I didn't cry, because he had attempted suicide before, but this time was different. When I got out of school I was smiling, but when I saw my mom's face I started to cry. She told me he was in (a major city near by)'s hospital, and that he is brain dead. I had no idea what she meant by "brain dead", but I soon found out that he was in a coma.
        When I went to see him, I cried more than I have ever cried before. He had a neck brace on, and tubes coming from everywhere. He looked peaceful though. He didn't look like he was in pain. His eyes were shut, but I am sure he could see us then. We held his hands and cried. The doctor told us that he was dead for a minute or two, and the paramedics were able to revive him. His brain isn't working like it should. The only part that is working is his heart. It is still beating. As long as is continues, we can keep him on life support. The next day, we came back. The doctor told us his brain had completely stopped. On Thanksgiving, they took him off of life support. Right before he was taken off of it, his heart was still beating. He never liked to give up on anything. He liked things dramatic and funny, but his death wasn't funny at all. It was sad. It is kind of like he couldn't die. He was unable to. He fought against the death he wanted. His heart refused to quit until we were ready, but I guess we were never ready. We had to let go of him. He wanted it. What he did was a selfish act, but wouldn't it be even more selfish to try to keep him on the Earth when he hated each and every day. He wasn't going to wake up, so us leaving him stuck in a hospital would be selfish of us.
        I just wish I could have stopped it before he did what he did. I can only imagine what it was like. He got out of his bed and into his wheel chair. He rolled over to his robe, and grabbed the chord. He went over to the closet. He tied the chord to the bar, and then to his neck. His tears rolling down his cheek. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I am not who I was. I love you, so I will leave.". He got out of his chair, and lifted his legs. The tears still rolling down his cheeks. I don't know if that is exactly what happened or if he actually said that, but I keep imagining that. My dreams of him consist of that. It makes me cry when I write about it. Every letter I type, reminds me of him. He taught me a lot of things, and I have many good memories of him. I don't want to remember him by his secrets and his mistakes. I want to remember him as the man who worked for his family, and the man who loved his family more than himself. That is what I want to remember him by.