Wednesday, Aug. 8, 2001, is a day I am likely never to forget. That is the day of my first life-changing experience - the day my stepfather died.
It started off like any other normal day. I went to work, never even thinking about anything bad happening. Around 7 p.m. my stepfather left to go rollerblading with some friends, his usual Wednesday evening activity. Later that night my mother received a phone call saying he was taken to the emergency room. My stepfather's friends who called my mom did not want her to be so upset that she'd be unable to drive to the hospital, so they just told her he was having some problems breathing. He had some problems breathing before in extreme heat and because of his previous health problems, my mother was not overly concerned. My mom went to the hospital with one of my five sisters. She called me before she left and said not to worry.
An hour later, my phone rang and I picked it up to hear the strained voice of my younger sister on the phone. All she said was, "Amber, can you please come to the hospital?" I raced to the hospital the whole time thinking that he had probably had a heart attack; at this point it still hadn't occurred to me that he had died. Forty-nine-year-old men don't just go rollerblading and fall over dead.
When I walked into the emergency room I thought it was a little odd. The nurse told me she would take me to my family who were in the waiting room. "Why aren't they in the room with my step-dad?" I asked the nurse. She didn't answer me.
As we walked down the hall I saw my uncle leaning against a wall a little way ahead. My first thought was "Uncle Gary is here," and I started to smile at him, then all of a sudden the realization hit me. It's really hard to understand how your brain works at a time like that if you've never been through anything like that. Everything seemed to be so loud, but the whole time the only thing I was hearing was my own voice in my head screaming "No" over and over.
As I turned the corner into the room where my family was I heard my mom and my sisters crying, so I knew he had died. It's really strange but I became really irrational and tried to think of every way that he could be saved, which of course there were none. As my mom sobbed and tried to break the news to me, I started to sob as well.
Everything seemed like a dream. I remember my sister completely in shock with tears streaming down her face, unable to make any sounds, except for a very quiet, almost incoherent moaning. I remember trying to comfort my mother, who was unable to sit or stand. All she could do was fold herself up in the corner and lean against the wall and cry. I remember making phone calls to people from our church who were wonderful and met us at the hospital to drive our cars home. I could not tell you what I said to anyone that I called, or what they said to me. I just know I called them.
It turned out my stepfather had a massive heart attack. The doctors told us even if he was in the hospital at the time, it was too quick and there was nothing they could do. I believe that everybody has a time, and that Wednesday evening in August was my stepfather's.
Since then my family, who've always been close, have grown even closer. We're religious, so we know he is in a better place and we'll see him again. Christmas and my stepfather's birthday were hard, but on Dec. 10 we were blessed with the birth of my nephew Payton, the first grandchild born in my family. He is perfect in every way, and of course, we all are convinced he is a genius. Payton has made life a little easier; he came at a perfect time, when my family really needed to experience joy. Life is a cycle, someone dies and someone is born.
Throughout this experience I've become a much stronger person. I realize now not to take anything for granted. Tell the people that you love how you feel, tell them often, you can never hear it too much. Don't hold back things you want to say, because some day before you know it, it might be too late. Respect your parents and realize what they do for you, and lastly don't think that bad things only happen to bad people. They happen to everyone.
