To the kids who respond to your parents after being disciplined by saying “i hate you,”

This word is tossed around by teenagers the same way they spit out the word, “love” in short lived flings or relationships. Please tell me more about your apparent passionate dislike for people who thought for nine months that your very existence would be a miracle.

When I was nine years old, two policemen showed up to my door step. They asked to speak to whatever adult was home. My step dad talked to the cops, and about thirty minutes later, my mother rushed through the door, teary eyed, red faced, with black makeup streaks staining her cheeks. My mom had just recently left that morning to go to work, so I wondered why she came home so early. My sister and I went back upstairs, and tried to figure out what could have possibly happened. My step brother runs to us, and asks, “did you hear what happened to David?” David is my dad. I ignored it, because it’s just my dad, and it’s probably nothing. When is it every something? At the time, he had recently gotten sick with pneumonia, but he’ll be fine. After all, everyone likes to convince themselves that death is only inevitable when you’re eighty years old or older. My mom calls me and my sister, and manages to clear her throat after hysterically crying. “I need to talk to both of you.”

My father died on Thursday, March 29th in 2008. He had sleep apnea, just like many other adults eventually get, and he was unable to breath due to having pneumonia. This was unexpected, and changed my whole world. I haven’t discovered anything harder to deal with than losing a parent. My last words to my dad were “i love you.” Sure, I didn’t get to say goodbye, but i’m lucky that those were my last words. My brother, Dj lives in Alabama with his mom, and my other sister. He never had the easiest relationship with my dad. What were his last words to my father? “I hate you.”

Dj is twenty-three years old, and still can’t manage to really talk about my dad without getting upset. He carries guilt on his shoulders, and he still hasn’t really grieved. When someone you love dies, you eventually like to talk about your favorite memories you have of that person, and it’s usually easy, because by that time you have accepted that they’re gone. He is incapable of doing that. When I was fourteen, my dad’s favorite dog died, and my brother burst into tears, just because it was my dad’s dog. Regret has completely damaged him.

Although I’ve dealt with the loss of my father, there will always be little things that no one ever realizes how much they would like their parents to be there for. This past summer, I went to my cousin’s wedding in Chicago. It was absolutely beautiful, and after all of the speeches and toasts were made, i looked over to the bride and groom’s table to see my uncle grab my cousin’s hand for the father daughter dance. I forgot that that would eventually be important to me. I watched them dance, and saw both of them cry. I couldn’t imagine how special that moment must have been between them. I started tearing up, and my sister and I both looked at each other, both of us knowing that we’ll never get to do that.

I cried when my dad couldn’t be there for my elementary school graduation, and I can’t imagine what an emotional wreck i’ll more than likely be when I graduate high school. Don’t even get me started on how dreadful father’s day can be. I could go on about how much my life sucks, because I don’t have a dad, but that’s not true. I do have a dad, and my life is still pretty fulfilling. He just only got the chance to be present in it for nine precious years that I can cherish. I’m beyond lucky to have had him in my life for that short period of time, and if you still have your mom and dad in your life, you’re lucky too. You still have the chance to take back the “i hate you’s,” and give a lifetime’s worth of “i love you’s.”