That Moment

I can remember it like it was yesterday. I can remember everything actually. How has the time gone so quickly? How has so much else happened to me in such a short amount of time.

The many different difficulties in which I have faced started six years ago today.

It seems as though it only happened ten minutes ago. Who would have known that one little phone call would have changed my life forever? It was that one phone call that started off a series of difficult situations. That one phone call from my mum to tell me that my dad was about to pass away.

I can remember standing in the waiting room, pacing back and forth waiting to hear something. Anything.

Then the nurse came in. She said that I had around five minutes to say my goodbyes. But no amount of time would have been enough.

I can remember the clean smell of disinfectant and the clean bed sheets. I can remember his bright blue eyes looking at me from the other end of the bed. His mouth twitching up in one corner - trying to form a smile I think.

That's when the loud beeps started getting slower, the machine on top of the cabinet flashing vigorously. That's when I got rushed out of the room by that nurse again. I liked her. She was blonde and called Rosie. She said she liked my hair and wanted to dye hers my shade of red; I don't know why though, I only ever got teased for it. But it's only now that I realize that she was just trying to distract the little twelve year old girl inside of me - she didn't want me to think too much about what was happening in there. In that room.

But that's when my mum came back. Her eyes were all red and puffy. Then when she placed her tear filled eyes on me, she couldn't help but burst into a continuous flow of tears.

You're probably thinking that I'm the brave one and that losing a parent must be hard, right? Well yes, it is. But it can't be as bad as losing your husband. My mum is the bravest person I have ever met. Being bereft and left to bring up a twelve year old girl all on her own can't be easy.

Everyone always tells me how happy and bubbly I am but what they don't know is that inside, I'm still that innocent twelve year old girl who misses her daddy. I miss the conversations we used to have. How he hugged me as soon as he got home. And the smell of his favourite aftershave. I just hate the fact that I'm never going to be able to experience this ever again. I hate the fact that I can't tell him about my days at school. That he'll never know about how I don't talk to most of my old friends. That he'll never meet my new friends. That he wasn't there to celebrate my 16th birthday. Or my 18th. That he couldn't be there when I passed my driving test. Or my school exams. That he'll never walk me down the aisle. Or meet his future grandchildren. I hate that my children will never truly know how amazing their grandfather was.

Who would have thought that just one little phone call could bring all of these miseries.