Life in the bi leauge Essay

Submitted By Kmtz_105
Words: 751
Pages: 4

Sleeping in a hospital bed was bad, but having to sleep in a sofa was worse. I spent all night tossing a turning trying to find a comfortable spot to rest. But after countless hours I didn’t. As I stared up at the faded brown stains covering some of the tiles up on the ceiling. And the only thing I could picture was my father being taken away in that ambulance. Hearing the sound of sirens in the distance was the worst thing to come home to for the Holidays. My father had being fighting cancer for the past three years, and know the worst had happen. His body wasn’t reacting well to the chemo, so all he could do was hope. And having his Mexican machismo intact he never showed if he was hurting or not. But I know who my father was. He was what you call an old school Mexican father. And being his only daughter he always out for me. So seeing him helpless in that thin blue, hospital gown sent chills down my spine. Growing up my father was an only child, and coming from a poor family from Mexico he always knew what hard work was. As an adult now I can see, and understand how much both my father, and mother struggled, and sacrificed to give me a brighter future. I sat there just reminiscing about my father and how much he helped me, not just as a father, but as a teacher. And just as I was ready to walk into my dad’s room. My mother comes out wearing a zippered hoodie and pajama pants as the day we left from her house. With a look of sadness I approached her and asked her what was wrong. She paused staring at me with her brown eyes and told me the worst. She said that my father wasn’t waking up and that he was on life support. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and I knew that even though I wanted to yell, all I could do was try to comfort my mother. As we both made our way back to his room I just kept telling myself I was going to be strong. Walking in a seeing him on that hospital bed with tubes and machines attached to him like from a science fiction film. Both my mother and I stood watching him for the last time and couldn’t help but breakdown. I grabbed his hand and remembered how much of a great dad I had. And I knew from his blistered up hands that the hard times I had in life couldn’t compare to what my father had gone through.
Both my father and mother had to go through so much adversities and sacrifice just so I could have a better education. Both coming from Mexico and living in such poor conditions gave them more strength to leave…