This past Sunday was the 13th anniversary of my dad's death. He died on a Friday morning of a massive heart attack. My mum and dad were arguing just before, while I was in another room getting ready for school. My dad was getting ready for his first day at his new job. I don't remember much of what happened next but I soon found myself in the kitchen looking at my dad on the floor. I don't know if my mum was screaming, shouting, or even making a noise, but she was panicking. She managed to tell me to run upstairs and get my aunt and uncle. We were living in their basement at the time. I think by the time I got them downstairs my mum realized that my dad was having a heart attack. My aunt called 911 and then her sister who was a nurse. It seemed like forever until she made her way over. I kept thinking what is taking her so long?

By the time my aunt's sister made it over, my mum was crying and I was in shock. I couldn't really comprehend what was happening. My aunt's sister started to administer CPR on my dad with the help of my mum, but my mum was crying to much to help so I stepped in to help. My aunt's sister pumped my dad's chest while I blew into his mouth. I had no clue what I was doing, so I just blew as hard as I could hoping for something. We did this for what seemed like an eternity. I really had no concept of time at that point. The paramedics arrived while we were performing CPR and they took over. They told us to go upstairs and wait. I really didn't want to leave but we had to go. Another blur and the paramedics came upstairs with the bad news. My mum and I, my aunt, uncle, everyone cried. The rest of that weekend was another huge blur. The paramedics taking my dad away, making arrangements at the funeral home and cemetery, the burial. I have no clue how long it all took. I'm not too sure it happened all that weekend. All of it is just faint but the feelings, the imprints of that day/week remain. Before the paramedics left, they heard that I had helped to perform CPR on my dad so they gave me a pin. I sort of figured they wished they could have given me my dad back.

...

I was fiddling around on the internet today at work and stumbled upon a geneology website. The site had a link to the SSN death database. I looked up my dad and sure enough there he was listed, but they had his day of death wrong. The listing said he died June 15th and not 12th. It was really odd looking at that little line about my dad. I have lived more than half my life with my dad, but it's still weird to think that I don't have a dad.

This entry was posted on 6.13.2005 at 21:41. You can skip to the end and leave a response.