9 years ago I woke up to a police officer at the front door looking for me, I tried to recall what I did the night before that could have got myself in trouble…
I went to the door, the police officer said I wasn’t in trouble but I needed to follow him back to my mom’s house. I was worried something happened with my sister, she just started soccer and was on the boy’s team that year. I thought maybe she got hurt at practice. He said my sister was fine but we need to go, I was confused and wanted answers, I asked if anything happened to my mom and he said no, he would explain everything once we got home.
The drive home was eerie. Once I pulled down Taft St, I saw my neighbors standing outside on the sidewalk across from our house. I walked into the house and sitting around the kitchen table was my sister who was crying, her friend and another police officer and that’s when they told me.
My dad was driving when he experienced a massive heart attack. He was able to safely pull off to the side of the road so he didn’t cause an accident however he didn’t make it.
That was 9 years ago and every day I still think of him – I wish he was here.
This was the last picture we took together.
