English 1010

November 28, 2016

The Power of Words

Last Words

Never has the power of words been so evident to me as they were the day it all began, Itit

was just before Easter in April 2007, the event that changed my life forever; never has the power

of words been so evident to me as they were the day it all began. I was 15 fifteen years old, at

home on a Friday night with my sister, Maegan, and some of our closest friends, Hailey and

Melanie. My dad had been having bad migraines, so we were planning our on a night out so

33that we wouldnt disturb him. Luckily, Melanie and Maegan were older than Hailey and I so

they could drive us wherever we wanted to go. We finally decided on going to a party that Jerry

was having at his place, Hailey had a huge crush on him and was finally ready to make her

move. Just aAs we were about to leave my mom and dad appeared at the top of our main

staircase, my mom human-crutch carrying him down the stairs. He didnt look well at all, his

skin was grey, and his face etched with pain-my big strong dad, was so weak and helpless. My

mom yelled for me to grab her keys and help load him into the car, . she She was taking him to

the ER. My heart was pounding, I couldnt breathe, everything seemed to be happening in slow-

motionslow motion. My sister and I frantically helped load my dad into the car. I repeatedly told

him I loved him, thats all I knew to say, thats all that seemed to matter.

All I remember of that night was Hailey and Melanie laughing and sayingsaying, this is

awkward, as they left for Jerrys party. and mMy sister; my twin brothers, Morgan and

Cameron, ; and I were sitting at home worriedly waiting for our mom to call. It seemed like a
lifetime before we got the call. Dad had suffered a brain hemorrhage and was being rushed to

{which hospital?},; our mom would call with more information as she received it. The next week

and a half was torture, ; we very rarely heard from my our mom, just brief updates that basically

said nothing had changed, . all All her time and energy was focused on dad.

Our family friend, Diana, had agreed to stay with us kids and help run the house until my

uncle Scott, who was in the air Air force Force, could make his way to Utah to be with us and to

see his brother. I remember drowning in schoolwork really struggling in school and losing my

desire and love for the dance team I was on, . all All I could think about was my dad; . what

What if I never saw him again, ? they They were keeping him in the ICU so we werent allowed

to visit. Monday, ten days after the initial incident, we received a call from my mom saying that

they were planning on performing surgery on my dad within the next few days, the bleeding had

finally gone down enough to do so, we were also informed that Scott would be in town late

Tuesday or early Wednesday. I got home from dance practice Monday night to find my siblings

all sitting on the couch with tear tear-stained faces and my mom sitting on the couch across from

them.

I knew something was wrong, ; theres there was no other reason my mom would have

left my dad at the hospital and drove driven all the way down to our home in Orem. She walked

up to me, gave me a hug and told me to take a seat. She proceeded to tell me that Diana would be

over later tonight to drive us to the hospital to say our goodbyes to our dad. The doctors had been

straightforward with my mom telling her that it wasnt likely that he would make it through the

surgery and if by some miracle he did he wouldnt be the same. He might never talk again, h. He
might never walk again. If he did come out of the surgery, there was a good chance that he would

be in a vegetative state. My mom had gotten special approval to have us kids come up and say

goodbye before his surgery that next morning.

That 45-forty-five-minute car ride up to Salt Lake was the longest ride of my life. Diana

tried her hardest to distract us, ; she tried to play the alphabet game with us, ; she tried carrying

on conversation, but our minds were elsewhere. I had a constant prayer in my head, begging for

things to work out. As we got to the hospital an elderly nurse with salt-and-pepper hair tied in a

messy bun on the top of her head we were escorted us to the ICU by an elderly nurse, she had

salt-and-pepper hair tied in a messy bun on top of her head, . exhaustion Exhaustion covered her

face. We were instructed to be quiet and respectful as the patients in the ICU were very sick,sick;

she put emphasis on not looking in the other rooms. I focused my gaze on the blue and white

floor tiles to help with my temptation to look around and see what was going on around me. It

was such an eerie place to be, . as As we approached my dads room, I gave in to temptation and

peeked at the room just across from his. There were police officers having a conversation outside

the door, and a large Polynesian man, probably in his early 50sfifties, sitting in a chair just

outside the room crying hysterically, I overheard the officers say something about gang violence.

The nurse caught my attention, and directed my siblings and I me into my dads room

where we found mom sitting on a flimsy hospital chair right next to dads bed, holding his hand.

He had all kinds of wires and tubes attached to him, ; he was awake, but not himself. I didnt like

this version of my dad, he was the one that who was never sick, he was the strongest man I

knew, ; I couldnt believe this was all happening. Our mom quietly told us that we were ok to
walk over and give him a hug, just to mind the wires and tubes. We sat and visited for maybe 15

fifteen minutes before the nurse came in and told us we needed to wrap things up so he could get

his rest. 15 Fifteen minutes wasnt near enough time. We all stood in a circle around the bed

hand-in-hand to say what we thought would be our last family prayer. Somehow, I was at peace,

; as the prayer came to a close my mind was flooded with thoughts of what I should say to him.

What did I want my last words to my dad to be? Three words, : I love you, . simple Simple, but

powerful. If nothing else I wanted him to know I loved him. Nothing else mattered.

My siblings and I were raised to live each day as if it was were our last. That lesson never

really meant much to me until that Monday night, saying my goodbyes to my dad. Now I dont

let an opportunity to express my love and appreciation to of others go by. I dont hold back, I

dont let fear get in my way. I try my hardest to be kind to all that I meet, because of my

understanding of how fragile life is, because you never know what might happen in your life, or

in the life of others. The words we choose to use are so powerful, use them wisely, use them

for good. They dont have to be profound or complicated at all. I love you. Thank you. I forgive

you. Simple, but so powerful.