Me and My Dad

Well my dad and I got along quite well but I didn't get to know him for long though, as it all happened so quickly. I was only 3 years old at the time and I didn't know it then, but he had been suffering from heart disease and he was a heavy smoker, which didn't help at all.

As I was saying, I don't remember much about him because I was only young. But I do remember my dad having to be taken to the hospital during the night on a number of occasions. I remember one time waking up from the sounds of footsteps coming up and down the stairs.

My dad used to work with computers and went abroad a lot as part of his job, so we didn't get to see him often. But the good thing about this situation was that when he came home from his business trips, he would bring us a gift/present to show mum and I how much he thought about us while he was away. One that I remember was a little teddy saying "I love you" imprinted on his tummy.

Well, one night my dad got rushed into hospital and that morning we went to see him there. My mum had told me that he had a heart attack but luckily he survived, and I brought my teddy with me. He looked fine from his recovery. I went up to him and gave him my teddy back, giving him a hug and saying "I love you daddy, don't worry you're going to be fine, you're not going to die." That was the last time I ever spoke or saw him.

I was 4, and had just started school. My dad had to go straight to work after he was released from the hospital so I didn't get to see him. After a day at school my teacher had to bring me home because my mum couldn't for some reason. When I got home I found my mum sitting down and crying, she was so upset.

I went up to her asking what was wrong and she said, "I'm really sorry but your father is
dead." After she told me that I threw down my coat and bag and went upstairs to my room. I sat on my bed crying like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't believe it, I didn't get time to see him, I didn't get to say goodbye.

It's been 9 years now since I lost my father; I'm 13 and am still living through the pain. I regularly visit his grave, I still cry for him, but I know that I will see him again one day.

- Vicky Moody, 13 yrs.

* Vicky is a Girl.com.au reader