I would like to submit it to one of those teen magazines. Does it move you? Is it inspiring how I came out fine? What would you change? What do you think?? I want your honest opinions as if you didn't know me and read this is in a magazine. Thanks
It was the last day of school before spring break of fourth grade. Like everyone else in my grade, and most kids throughout the country, it was refreshing to wake up knowing that for the next two and a half weeks we could sleep in, see our friends and not have deal with boring classes. At least, that?s what I thought I would be feeling. Instead, I was dealt a hard blow of sorrow and pain.
My mom woke me up early, around 6:30 AM. ?Dad didn?t come home last night,? she said. I asked her if she called his best friend. Mom had already done that and she was going to look for him. I was to stay at the apartment with the babysitter until she came home.
I wasn?t worried, not in the least bit. Dad owned an office-supply store downtown that did pretty well so I figured it was one of two things. Either he was kidnapped or he had been robbed and was too ashamed to admit it. The second notion was crazy of course, but I was nine years old and I was naive.
Mom came home and it was apparent she had been crying. I ran to her and yelled, ?Mommy, mommy! Any news?? ?Yes, Phil. I have news.? Her talk was slow and voice somber. She slowly nodded to the dozen or so friends and relatives who were now at our home. Mom took me inside and we both sat on the bed. By this time, I knew something was wrong but for some reason I still never thought about the inevitable.
?Dad was in a robbery last night. He?s dead.?
The tears just starting sprinting out of my eyes into my mother?s shirt. She hugged me tight and cried with me. I had never felt anything like it. It got worse as the police investigated my family (they found nothing). However, my grandfather insisted that they keep looking into my family (for reasons still a mystery to me), but they still did not find anything. That combined with losing a parent tore me apart. For anyone this would be difficult but to be just nine years old, it was especially overwhelming and heart breaking.
There were a lot of roller coaster moments that we had to deal with over time. About a month after he died my hockey team went to a tournament in Buffalo. This was hard enough because Dad was always coming to my games, giving me advice, working with me to become a better player physically and mentally. We would also go to a lot of Ranger games together, so anything about hockey made me miss him. The first game, I score three goals and won Most Valuable Player for the game. At that instant, the loudest thunder I ever heard clapped through the sky. A friend leaned over to my mom and said, ?He?s here Roz. Howard is here.? She had to hold back the tears.
Six years later my mom and I are doing great. This is mainly in part to communication. I am very open with mom about everything and especially about my feelings. Some people think that keeping it inside is best and that talking about your feelings is awkward. It might be at first, but communication is key to avoid a hard road to recovery. We travel and have fun with our lives, as we have been doing for several years. Right after Dad died, doing those type of activities were difficult, but now we go about our lives like normal, a good deal in part because of what I said above.
I have definitely been effected in certain ways, for example, I can?t go to sleep without my mom and I saying, ?See you in the morning? to each other. I fear that if we don?t say it then I will wake up and my mom will be gone just like dad was. I am also more religious, as I will talk to Dad lying in bed at night. I tell him what is going on with my life even though I believe he already knows. I am not overly religious, but small things like that help.
I miss him a lot, and if anyone loses a parent they are going to miss him or her the rest of their lives. Right after he died, I felt as though I would walk around with a two-ton heart the rest of my life because it was so heavy from being upset. That pain diminishes over time and now I think about the happy moments. My mom and I will laugh with some family friends about funny stories of Dad. Pictures of him used to make me cry and now they make me smile because I don?t think about the murder, I think about Dad and how much I love him. It?s sad for him not to be here, but in the short time that I knew him he affected me as a person. He showed me how to have a tough work ethic and why family is so important. Above all else, he is my heart forever.
It was the last day of school before spring break of fourth grade. Like everyone else in my grade, and most kids throughout the country, it was refreshing to wake up knowing that for the next two and a half weeks we could sleep in, see our friends and not have deal with boring classes. At least, that?s what I thought I would be feeling. Instead, I was dealt a hard blow of sorrow and pain.
My mom woke me up early, around 6:30 AM. ?Dad didn?t come home last night,? she said. I asked her if she called his best friend. Mom had already done that and she was going to look for him. I was to stay at the apartment with the babysitter until she came home.
I wasn?t worried, not in the least bit. Dad owned an office-supply store downtown that did pretty well so I figured it was one of two things. Either he was kidnapped or he had been robbed and was too ashamed to admit it. The second notion was crazy of course, but I was nine years old and I was naive.
Mom came home and it was apparent she had been crying. I ran to her and yelled, ?Mommy, mommy! Any news?? ?Yes, Phil. I have news.? Her talk was slow and voice somber. She slowly nodded to the dozen or so friends and relatives who were now at our home. Mom took me inside and we both sat on the bed. By this time, I knew something was wrong but for some reason I still never thought about the inevitable.
?Dad was in a robbery last night. He?s dead.?
The tears just starting sprinting out of my eyes into my mother?s shirt. She hugged me tight and cried with me. I had never felt anything like it. It got worse as the police investigated my family (they found nothing). However, my grandfather insisted that they keep looking into my family (for reasons still a mystery to me), but they still did not find anything. That combined with losing a parent tore me apart. For anyone this would be difficult but to be just nine years old, it was especially overwhelming and heart breaking.
There were a lot of roller coaster moments that we had to deal with over time. About a month after he died my hockey team went to a tournament in Buffalo. This was hard enough because Dad was always coming to my games, giving me advice, working with me to become a better player physically and mentally. We would also go to a lot of Ranger games together, so anything about hockey made me miss him. The first game, I score three goals and won Most Valuable Player for the game. At that instant, the loudest thunder I ever heard clapped through the sky. A friend leaned over to my mom and said, ?He?s here Roz. Howard is here.? She had to hold back the tears.
Six years later my mom and I are doing great. This is mainly in part to communication. I am very open with mom about everything and especially about my feelings. Some people think that keeping it inside is best and that talking about your feelings is awkward. It might be at first, but communication is key to avoid a hard road to recovery. We travel and have fun with our lives, as we have been doing for several years. Right after Dad died, doing those type of activities were difficult, but now we go about our lives like normal, a good deal in part because of what I said above.
I have definitely been effected in certain ways, for example, I can?t go to sleep without my mom and I saying, ?See you in the morning? to each other. I fear that if we don?t say it then I will wake up and my mom will be gone just like dad was. I am also more religious, as I will talk to Dad lying in bed at night. I tell him what is going on with my life even though I believe he already knows. I am not overly religious, but small things like that help.
I miss him a lot, and if anyone loses a parent they are going to miss him or her the rest of their lives. Right after he died, I felt as though I would walk around with a two-ton heart the rest of my life because it was so heavy from being upset. That pain diminishes over time and now I think about the happy moments. My mom and I will laugh with some family friends about funny stories of Dad. Pictures of him used to make me cry and now they make me smile because I don?t think about the murder, I think about Dad and how much I love him. It?s sad for him not to be here, but in the short time that I knew him he affected me as a person. He showed me how to have a tough work ethic and why family is so important. Above all else, he is my heart forever.
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