The first time I went to a funeral day, I was three years old.

It was a man died when he

was forty-eight years old but because I was a baby, I did not know who the man was but he was

my father.

Women were wearing only a black dress and the men wear suits and a white scarf and they all

were crying. My sister was crying and she was so sad because I can read everything from her

face and my two brothers tried to make my sister calm, heard her say,“ He was the best man and

the best father.” But I did not know what she was talking about. I started to think about my

mother because she did not cry but she was so quiet. I wanted to talk to her but I did not because

when I saw my mother quite, felt something bad and I wanted to scream loud and cry then I

wanted to ask my father why my mother is but he was not there, I went to my brother and I asked

him“ Why are you all are crying, why my mother is so quiet and why is my father not here?” But

my brother did not answer my question he just said, ‘’Ummm go ask mother.” maybe she knows

where our father is.’’

My mother told me that I don’t have to ask her about my father but she said, “He is out of

the city because of work but he will be back when he finished his work.”It was summer then I

started school and I forgot everything until I turn toed eight years old but I always eat his favorite

food even though I do not like it. I thought he would be back and waited for him for almost five

years. But at school, I see all my friends with their fathers and mothers (parents) and then I feel

so jealous but I didn’t say anything but I want to ask my mother to talk to him on the phone.

It was in the morning, I was eating my breakfast with my mother. I like when my mother

cooks because her food tastes so good. When I was waiting, I asked my mom I wanted her to tell

me about my father. My mother started to remind me about my father, she said,” Do you

remember the last day you saw your father?” I said, “yes how I can forget that day, it was the last
day to see my father face but he was in the hospital and he was so tired and he can't even say my

name well.”At that time I have so hurt then my mom told me “ He can’t come over here, but you

can go to but not yet.” I said, “Why I cannot go right now?” I was so confused but she told me

with a short answer “ He is not alive, he is dead, he can’t come over here, even though we can’t

go, but we all have our time to go and never come back”

It was new news for me but I did not cry. I left my mom then walked away from her. I ask

my grandmother to talk to me about my father's death.” My grandmother was confused because

she thought I do not know that then she read it from my face and I asked her the question again “

When I am going to meet my father?” She didn’t want to answer but I really wanted to know, so

then I get mad at her. I ask my teacher how people died and what will happen after that, she said,

“Some people die because of an accident and some people die because they were sick.” Then I

remembered the day he was in the hospital, I said,” Thank you, see you later.”

It really hurts me because I was waiting for him for a long time, five years until now. If I see

his picture, It always made me cry and remind me everything, what he did for me, for my

siblings, everything he bought for us and some of it, I still keep it. Until now I always think

about him, how I can meet him. Sometimes I see him in my dream. But now the only thing I

want is to make my dream come true and make him proud by his name. Sometimes I feel he can

see me as his eyes always with me even though he is not alive.