Thanksgiving, a day that will haunt me every year

November 26, 2005. 3 days before my dad died, it was Thanksgiving day. My family was at the hospital in his room and we all talked and shared memories. Thanksgiving that year...was not the same. And it never will be again. The rest of our family, cousins, aunts, and uncles, all celebrated thanksgiving at my cousin Steven's house. There was a huge gathering there, but we stayed at the hospital for a portion of the night. However, instead of staying with my father for the remainder of the night, for some fucking reason, we left to Stevens house to celebrate for a bit. What the fuck were we thinking? Did i seriously leave my father at the hospital on thanksgiving day? 3 days later, he died. I will never forgive myself for leaving to go to Steven's house. I don't care if we only left him for several hours, what we did was wrong.

I regret being such a jack ass to my dad. I always sided with mom, at times I even hated him, but for what? Stupid things. I wasn’t old enough to know anything back then. When he got sick, I didn’t even bother to be that close to him. Every time he needed help with something, I would grumble and moan and do it as if I didn’t want to. He ended up being mad and doing things on his own. Why couldn’t I just help him without complaint? He was dying for fucks sake. Every time I had to go to the hospital with my mom, I was more concerned about other things. When I sat in that room with him in his bed, I would be on aim on the computer in the room. I should have been sitting there like a son, and talking to his dying father. Maybe it was because I really didn’t think he was going to die soon, but he did.

Im not sure when it happened, or why, but there was a point of time in my life when i stopped talking to my dad. Maybe it was a series of events that lead up to it. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Sometimes I wonder what my dad thought of me. I never realized how proud he was of me. After he died, my mom told me he always talked about me and said I was the smartest of the family. He knew I’d be the top of my class and be successful one day. He believed I could be a doctor. He said he just wished he would live long enough to at least see me graduate. He didn’t want me to grow up so young without a father like he did.

My actions will haunt me forever. As a son, I wish I would have treated him better when he was still alive. I really, really fucked up.