I believe in
hope. When I was 14 my father passed away. I thought my world had ended, but I
later found out that only one of the greatest chapters had ended. I had to be
strong. I had to be strong for my family, for myself, and for my father.
My dad was a strong, loving man. My
father, Reginald, didn’t let anyone go needing for something they needed.
Family was important to him. My father was the only person I knew that would
sit and talk to me for hours upon hours. Everyone would get tired of us talking
about any and everything. They would simply walk to the other room. This is
probably why I can hold longer conversations than any of my friends.
When my dad passed away I hoped for the better. I had faith
in God that everything would be “Ok” like everyone said it would. At first, I
thought no one knew what I was going through. I thought no one knew the pain,
the hurt, the depression I had inside of me. I thought no one knew. “How could
they know?” I asked myself. Then I found
out I was wrong, someone did know what I was going through. More people than I thought knew what I was going through.
The plan was my dad was going to teach me how to drive. He had
a love like no other for cars. My dad was going to watch me walk across the
stage at graduation. My dad was going to watch me walk up the steps, into the
college doors. My dad was going to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. There were
so many plans we had planned only to find out that they wouldn’t follow
through.
I had to remind myself that he will be there through
everything I do. Not only will he be there, he will have the best seat in the
room. I have hope that he’ll be proud, that he is proud of the young lady that I
am becoming. Hope is what got me this far, my hope is what will get me further.
