The Worst Day Of My Life
This essay is about my worst day – the funeral of my father. It was a horrible experience that I still remember well. He was always energetic and full of life. When he died, he was always smiling and laughing so much that it was an embarrassment to his entire family. A friend spent the night with me. My father and mother had just returned from Los Angeles when I woke up the next morning. I learned about his poor health within a matter of days and weeks. I stayed there for the entire time and never left.
My mother was so sad that her t shirt was soaking wet. It was like my grandmother had gone to the gym. By the time I got to my parent’s room, my father was gone. My father’s blue eyes, open eyes, and swelling of his face were evident. He would soon be gone. I did not cry till the end. I felt crazy. My Mom and my older sister went to the grocery store to buy food for the family. My older sister was screaming at me so loudly that I had to shout at her. My mother and the two older sisters were with me to the Summerlin Hospital to say goodbye to her. It was hard for me to do this. I could not ‘t go to that shell that once housed my energetic and passionate father. The funeral home workers arrived at the hospital as the sky began to darken. We were all grieving equally, so I took my time outside. After letting my emotions run their course, I asked God for His reasons for taking my father. I was too weak to stay there that night. When I got up the next morning to go to school, I couldn’t think. Losing someone is like a shock. When I realized that my body couldn’t handle the thought of school, my mother pulled my out. It was one week later that I returned to school. I managed to keep my composure and smiled a fake smile. Deep down, I was screaming and Kicking back at them. It’s amazing how one small thing can bring up so many vivid details about something that you would rather forget at the funeral. I felt overwhelmed sadness and an uncontrollable ache throughout the funeral. The funeral ended with Nickelback’s Photograph. It is so vivid in my memory. I was sickened by the song, my emotions and the scent of the flowers. The grief was so overwhelming that it made me want hide from the outside world. The pain was too much to bear, and I couldn’t change the time. My older sisters, my sister and I stayed at grandma’s house for the funeral. After the service, we went to church early the next morning. It was hard to sit and listen to the preacher describe how wonderful he was. Seeing all those he loved cry was the hardest part. Everyone was overcome with sadness and the realization that he will not be returning. It began to rain on our way to the cemetery. This seems to have just been as fitting for the world that was grieving the same loss as us. We said our farewells and returned to my Grandmother’s house. There we had dinner and were as close to each other as a family. That night we went to bed, and the morning came. We were tired and sad. I think of him every day, smiling and riding with me all these years later. He was my rock and I have learned to cope with the loss. It is impossible to heal the wounds left by your loved ones, but you learn how to live with it again.