The Death of the Family
A few months ago, in October, my father was killed in a motorcycle accident. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. I never knew you could experience so much pain in life. Me and my mother and my sister are all devastated and lost without him. He was our family and we are no longer a true family without him. He was the character and the head of the house, the figure, the role model and the mentor. I feel so alone and although I don't openly talk about this with my mother and sister, I am sure they are feeling the same way.
My father got up the day he died, and left the house without knowing, without anyone knowing, that they would never see him again. That is what makes dealing with his death so hard, is the fact that I couldn't tell him how much I love him and how much I am going to miss him.
The fact that his life was taken away from him, the only thing he knows, against his will is very depressing to me and eats me alive because there is nothing I can do about it. I can't imagine living my life and experiencing things, like a beautiful sunset or a warm fire or looking at the stars without him. I never told my dad how much I loved him, and I regret it more than anything.