I was reading in Ramblings from the reservation in her entry about her friend D. In it she recalled a memory of when her mother was in the hospital. It reminded me of back when my Daddy died. It has been 34 years yet I still recall so many memories of that time. It was a horrible time in my life, the beginning of many horrible times. Up until the moment my Daddy died I had a wonderful life. No worries, I always felt loved and wanted, I felt special. Yes, I guess I was a Daddy's girl. When he died I was on the verge of a new life. In a few months I would be leaving 8th grade and entering high school, making plans for my future life. At the stop of a heartbeat everything changed. One morning my Daddy left for work, the next morning I left for school while a hearse transported him to a funeral home. At school a few people noticed me but no one said anything to me. No one knew that my daddy died that morning. I saw Kim and told her, she hugged me then the bell rang and we went to our classes. Soon I was involved in my classwork. Someone asked me why I was crying. I had not realized that tears were sliding down my face. I told her that my Daddy had died. She called me a liar and laughed at me. I could hear the whispers going around the room and the giggles. Not long after that there was a knock at the door and I was told to go to the office. Once there I saw Kim and her mother. She had called her mother and she came to get us and take us home. For the next few days I stayed at Kim's house except when I was at the funeral home.
I did not cry again for many years.
