September 16, 2016.
Probably hardest day of my life. I didn’t even see it coming. I remember the day before was so nice. It was a totally normal school day. We got picked up and got ice-cream. When we got home, I went straight to doing my homework. Everyone was outside doing the pool. I was getting a lot done having it be nice and quiet. Then I heard someone yelling. It was dad. I entered his room and he didn’t look good. He wasn’t himself. He yelled, “Lara. Nora, go get mom!” I kind of freaked out. I never had really been yelled at by dad. And he wasn’t himself. I should’ve noticed that. I ran out and told mom that dad doesn’t feel good and needs her now. She said she’ll be in, in a minute. I ran back to dad and said she’s coming.
Dad said he was burning up so I took his temperature. It said it was fine, and that his temperature was normal. That was a bad sign. Mom finally came in and took care of dad. She had me leave and she took care of dad. From then on to when I went to bed it was a blur. I remember going to bed early. I was about to settle in but I realized I needed to say goodnight to dad. I walked into his room and stood by where he was sleeping. I thought to myself, I should not wake him up because it’s always hard for him to get back to sleep. So, I just whispered goodnight dad, and left to go to bed.
While I was sleeping, I guess dad woke up not feeling good. Mom decided to take dad to the ER. Malia and Johnny heard about that and met them there. Dad didn’t look good so they got him in right away. Once dad was settled, mom told Malia and Johnny to go home because she would be with dad and it was okay.
I remember being woken up by my aunt Rachel. It was 4 or 5 in the morning. Since it was Rachel who woke me up, I started freaking out. She called me sweet girl and said we needed to get dressed. I knew something was wrong. We got dressed and headed toward the hospital. On the way, there I took a picture of the moon, which was still out. I don’t know why, but it was a full moon. To be honest I did not want to go into the hospital. When we went in, we walked to a quiet corner. Mom came out with tears in her eyes. Then Malia came out with Johnny. Mom explained that she took dad to the ER and that he was not feeling good.
When they took his temperature, they could not get one. The nurses got him warm blankets and things he needed. He was all hooked up to the machines to check his heart-beat and things. I guess the doctors decided to move him to his own room so they started unhooking him from the I-V’s. One nurse came in and said that they needed to get him hooked up to the monitors because he was not stable. But then suddenly, he had a heart attack and froze. Dad died September 16, 2016 roughly in the morning. I remember walking back to his room. In the hospital, there was a butterfly. I guess they do that for the people who had died. We all walked in as a family and saw dad’s body. It wasn’t him. His mouth was still open.
We all sat in that room crying. When someone in our family died, I don’t know who, people sang “Silent Night.” So, for dad, we did the same. That was the hardest song I have ever sang. We were all crying and trying to sing:
Silent Night!
Holy Night.
All is calm,
All is bright.
Round young virgin mother and child.
Holy infant, so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace;
Sleep in heavenly peace.
We all sat in the hallway so we could each have a turn to say good-bye individually, even though he was already gone.
When I went in, I started crying even more. I sat in a chair right by him. I held his cold, lifeless, hand. Usually whenever I held his hand he would squeeze it and held my hand tight. Not anymore.
I laid my head on his chest, just hoping that his heart would start beating again. I kept saying “Dad come back to me.” But nothing worked.
I finally said my good-byes and walked back out to my family saying to him: “I love you. Even though it’s just your body. Love your baby girl.”
My mom and I were the last ones to leave. It didn’t feel right to leave dad there, but is wasn’t really him anymore. That morning felt like years passing by. We walked out of the hospital and it was sunny. Seeing the sun showed me that it’s going to be okay.
Now, I feel like it was all a bad dream, where I will just wake up and dad would be holding me. But then I remember, no, he’s gone. I just must remember that God missed him and it was time for him to go. He had cancer because God needs strong and brave sons. He was one of them. I will forever be broken but I will know that he is happy in heaven.
I wrote a letter to my dad 2 months after his death. It says:
Hey dad,
I’m really missing you. It’s really rough. I always dreaded the day you would pass on and always thought that would never happen. But it did. That day when we had to go to the hospital, I knew it would be way worse than I would be way worse than I expected. But I never expected for you to die. Growing up I always told you, you will live forever. That didn’t happen. It’s really hard. And I wish that the cancer would’ve just been gone. That you fought it. But the cancer fought you and you couldn’t hold on much longer. Your heart wasn’t able to keep beating. It was done. This just means that Heavenly Father was ready for you to go home. I wasn’t ready for that though. Miss, you. Love you forever and all eternity.
Your little girl,
Nonors