For some kids, the death of a parent or even a close relative is enough to turn their world upside down. They go through withdrawal, denial, depression and sometimes make themselves sick (either physically or mentally).They will never be the same. For me these feelings came as a result of my parents sitting me down one day to tell me the big news - DIVORCE!

In late May of 1994, my parents called me at a friend's house and said that they wanted to talk to me. So I came home. My mother started to tell me about how she hadn't been happy with the marriage for 10 years but that she had stuck with it for me. I laughed and said, "Are you guys getting a divorce or something?" I expected them to tell me that they were going to go to a marriage counselor, but they confirmed that they were, in fact, getting a divorce.

I was immediately overwhelmed with fear I never knew I had. All my life my mother was the one who took care of me because my dad was busy with his job. Now all of a sudden, I felt I needed him. I felt that I somehow couldn't live a normal life without him. As I looked over at my father, he had his head down, his glasses off and he was covering his eyes. It was at this point tears started to roll down my cheeks.

Something inside me kept in all my anger toward my mother. Part of me wanted to be strong for my father, but the other part just didn't want to deal with the situation.

For a while, my father lived at home three or four nights and then at my grandparents' house the rest of the nights. This continued for about two months. I knew my father would eventually move out completely, but I never thought it would be before I went to college.

The rest of the summer was okay. I spent my days working or at the beach with my friends. Nights I spent on Cape Cod. I didn't want to be at home - not unless my dad was there.

September came and I was back at school. I never realized how much my dad was there for me, ready to help me with my homework. I thought I could do it without him, but when that first report card came, I knew I missed him more than I understood. My mother and I were fighting more and more, so she sent me to a psychologist. Together we concluded that I blamed my mother for the whole divorce and for ruining my father's life. She ripped him out of his own home and shipped him back to his parents.

I was also feeling angry at my father, which I was taking out on my mother. To me, it seemed like since he wasn't fighting hard enough, that meant he didn't love me very much.

Things are better now. My grades are up, my mother and I still have little spats - and I have dinner with my father every other Sunday at our favorite restaurant. Before, it was hard for me to enter my father's room without crying. Now my friend, Kristie, has taken over his room, so it's easier for me to go in there.

My life has drastically changed since I was a 16-year-old girl seeing the two most important people in my life move away from each other. I was still a little girl, but I've had to mature and grow up. I love my father a lot and I realize that I can still be "Daddy's pumpkin" but just in a different house. c