What We Have: Taking It For Granted

Submitted By mlim9
Words: 762
Pages: 4

What We Have: Taking It For Granted We all have many things in life. Some of us don’t realize what we have until we lose it. I was one of the people that take stuff for granted and I took my dad for granted. I viewed parents as people who house us, feed is, and supply us with what we need or want. Parents give us unconditional love and care, but do we do the same for them? My dad passed away last year on September 7, 2013. His death wasn’t abrupt but it sure wasn’t something my family and I expected. Days before the incident my dad wasn’t sick or in any pain. He was just himself when I saw him. Of course my dad never had the leisure to spend time with us but he loved and cared for my brothers, my mom, and me. He would always be working from the early morning to late at night trying to support our family and providing us with whatever want we had, I never took the time and said thank you or I love you because I thought it was already implied. My family had planned a Labor Day vacation the weekend previous to the holiday. But the morning of when we were about to leave my dad had fallen to the ground and had a seizure we called the ambulance immediately but my family didn’t know what to do until in arrived. My dad was mumbling and managed to say he was losing his eyesight ad when the ambulance arrived he said his ability to speak was waning too. So many thoughts were running through my head at this point. Why aren’t they taking him to the hospital? Why are they taking their time and only doing checks on him? My dad’s life was on the line. The emergency crew had finally taken him to the hospital and when we entered my dad’s room, he was lying there still, motionless, only the sound of the machines was there. The head doctor called us into his office and handed us a box of tissues. The doctor told us the situation and the condition of my dad and what caused it. My dad had a cerebral hemorrhage meaning blood vessels near his brain had popped and flowed into the brain. The doctor described blood in the brain is not reversible and we must prepare for my dad’s death. Just in case though, the head doctor explained that he might still have a chance to live but only as a vegetable, living but not moving, so we begged the doctor and he sent my dad off to Emory hospital. By now it was Tuesday, a day after Labor Day. We were in the waiting room of the hospital and waiting for the news of