My Losing Season: Final Words to My Dad

Mr. McGrath
My Final Words

          I did not know how to feel when I got the call. “Your dad has had a stroke,” Still echoed through my mind as if my mom told me a minute ago. My dad and I’s history isn’t one to be idolized. I lived in constant fear of him being displeased or angry with me. He would beat me any time I embarrassed him or myself while I was in his presence. I lived with one goal in mind, to prove my worth to my always unpleased father. Every time I would felt like I took a step closer to accomplishing my goal, I moved three steps back. He made my life a living hell. He moved us from military base to military base, breaking his promise every year that we would not move again. This affected every aspect of my life, except, luckily, my game. I was to go and visit my dad at the hospital near where my parents still lived. Why should I go comfort him in his final hours when he made every instance of my life painful and disappointing? A week passed until I decided that I would make the trip to see him. In the end he was my dad, and maybe, just maybe he had changed just the slightest bit in the last 10 years. When I arrived at the hospital I saw my family in front of my dad lying in the bed. As I walked towards the bed, I thought as to what I would say, do, or even think when I saw him, only to find him sleeping. I sat down and caught up with my mom for a couple hours. I forgot how much I missed my mother. She was the only woman in my life that was always supportive and on my side. I found out that she would always bring me up in her and my father’s conversations, but, he always shrugged them off with grunts and malicious comments about my imperfect personality. To attend a school like The Citadel and become a writer was a moral sin to my father; all he knew was the military. After my mom and I finished talking, I bantered a little more with my other siblings in a surprisingly lively conversation with the entire family (Excluding my brother,...