Ch. 1- The Early Years with my Dad

My name is Clayton.  I was born on the twenty second of  December, in the state of Ohio. I've always wanted to write down my experiences, and this contest has given me the perfect chance. I'll try to recount the most important events of my fifteen years as best I can. 1

When I was young, I was always happy. I had two loving parents, and even though my mother always worked late, my dad was always there for me when she couldn't be. He provided most of the things I needed; fatherly love, male companionship, encouragement, and comfort. He drove me to and from school, and always helped me with homework. He spoiled me rotten. He got me gifts just to see me smile. He was always there. I can never thank him enough for that.2

He loved sports, my dad did. One of the things I liked doing with him was opening packs of sports cards, which he collected. He took me to a few baseball games, although I never quite got into it. I'm told he was quite the basketball player when he was in high-school. He was offered a scholarship, but decided to begin working when he graduated instead. When I was born, he opted to quit his job and stay home to care for me. I grew up with my dad as the central figure in my life.3

He liked to do all sorts of things with me. He took me on several fishing trips, taught me to play checkers, and tried to teach me how to play basketball. Of course, sometimes we just sat and watched T.V. together. I was a homebody, so I liked that the most. 4

All that changed, suddenly, when I was eight or so. I was woken up late one night by my sister, April.5

"April, where's Dad?"6

"Dad...had a heart attack, Clay." 7

I bolted up in bed.8

"Why didn't I hear the ambulance?!"9

"They came and took him to the hospital. They had the sirens off so they wouldn't wake you. We'll go visit him this weekend, okay? Go back to sleep."10

I did. I don't know how.11

Eventualy, I did go visit him. He was to have open heart surgery, and had to stay in the hospital to be monitored in the mean time. I remember how strange it felt, seeing Dad with tubes sticking out his nose and arms, in a gown, sitting on the  edge of the bed in that cold, sterile, impersonal room. But he was smiling.12

"Hi, Clay!" he said. It was as if he had just gone away to run an errand. Pick up groceries or something. Of course, that was only the first visit. I saw him lots of times, and my mom would buy whole boxes of sports cards for us to open together. 13

On one such visit, his doctor came in, and they took a minute to talk about 'life insurance'. I had no idea what that was.14

"Why do you need life insurance?"15

"It's so you'll be taken care of it Daddy dosen't wake up." 16

In that single moment, I was painfully aware of my father's mortality. The idea of him dying was terrible. Why was this happening to my family?17

When we were at home, the question on my mind most frequently was 'When is Dad coming home?'. I would ask my mom often, and it always seemed that the hospital only wanted to keep him for 'another week or two." 18

Eventually, he DID come  home, and I was so happy to see him. But he seemed much more delicate. I remember asking him,19

"Dad, are you gonna die?"20

"I'm not going ANYWHERE, Clay."21

Right before my tenth birthday, he passed away at home, in a chair in the basement. I came home with my grandpa because he had never come to get me, and my mother and both sisters were there, crying. They hadn't taken away his body yet. He was still in my basement, where all my toys and game were, lying on his back under a snow white sheet. When I pulled the cloth away from his face, I could see all the veins mapping his cheeks and forhead, and his lips were dark, tinted blue. This wasn't my dad, the one who had always had a smile on his face, the big man who saw me off on every first day of school I'd ever had. That man, the person who I loved so much, had been snatched from me suddenly. He was gone.22

I probably cried more that night than I had ever cried in my life. I fell into a deep sleep, exhausted, with my head resting on a damp pillow in my parents' bed. The next morning, I woke up with my sister Shawn sleeping next to me in Dad's usual spot, her back turned to me. I thought it was Dad at first, and then I remembered the previous night.23

I had been left behind, and I had no idea how to deal with it.24