#33 Teach Me Every Step, Every Tip and Every Turn

The past 13 days that I haven't written in here has been full of busy and lazy days. I really think I had the chance to learn and appreciate things more than I already do. Moreover, it makes me wanna take care of my life a little more.

I bought a book in 4th grade called The Curious Incident of the Dog In the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. I thought I understood it, but I only got the gist of it and was pretty bored after a while. But now, I'm rereading it and it captivated me completely and really made me think about the world and how it works. I'm really happy I didn't throw it out. I really recommend it to people who like reading about mysteries.

So over the past several days, my father had an accident and had to go to the hospital. Last week, I was fixing the roof with him when he suddenly felt dizzy. He is already diagnosed with vertigo, so I was used to it. I thought for sure that it would last only a few minutes. But with the sun blaring down at us, it was tough to get over it.
Part of our roof is flat, but still a little slanted. He propped a ladder against and climbed up to help me fix the roof. When he felt dizzy, he leaned against the ladder for support. Luckily, I moved him away from the ladder and toward the windows or else he would've fallen down.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, he coughed. He usually would throw up because of the dizziness, but instead, he choked on his vomit and fell over landing with a huge THUD. I didn't realize he choked, I just stopped him from rolling down the slant. But I saw the expression on his face, eye bulging, face turning bright red and not moving at all.
I didn't know what to do. I started pumping at his chest like in the movies. But it wasn't working. So I smacked his back really hard until he threw up. Then he looked at me and asked what happened. All this while, I was just kept calling out "daddy". I felt like I needed to cry, but I couldn't burst into tears.
Instead of going down the ladder, my sister and I helped him in through the windows. We thought that was it. No more tragedies.

No. The next day, which was Monday. I thought for sure that it was the 19th. But it was the 20th, my dad's birthday and I completely got the date wrong. I went to my volunteer work and at 3PM, I got a phonecall rushing me to go back to Flushing. My dad was in the ER.

He stayed there for 4 days straight. It was a terrible birthday for him, I would think.

This time, it wasn't a case of vertigo...but a minor stroke. I took a week off and visited him everyday at the hospital. I got into an argument with my sister because it looked as if I didn't care. I really wanted to go back to the volunteer cause I was having fun. She got mad at me for that, and I don't blame her. She told me, "You have 3 years to complete your community service work, but you might not even have 3 years with your dad."

And she cried.

I didn't cry in front of her. Of course I already knew that I might not have 3 years with my dad. I already know a lot of stuff that she told me. I wish I didn't, but I did.

When she cried in front of my dad and said stuff, I felt that she was being unfair to my dad just because her dad died. Her dad died alone. He was a lonely man and she didn't want me to regret not being there for my dad the way she was. But, I don't wanna be there when my dad dies. I don't wanna see him die in front of me. I would much rather recieve a phonecall than see my dad go through the unbearable pain of dying in front of me.

My dad is back home now. He's taking his time recovering as I run errands and send out emails to my school for orientation day. I feel underappreciated for my efforts in helping my father. I never really got a Thanks from him for anything. Also, he doesn't even stay at home. Always visiting his friends and coming home after midnight. Right now, as we speak, my father isn't home and it's nearing midnight. Another example and today is only the 2nd day he's back.

He's still smoking it up. And at this rate, I feel as if I might really lose him...and not to a minor stroke like this time. But an actual stroke...one that makes people the "Living Dead". And honestly, that makes me sad.

I think I just really need someone's chest to cry into sometimes. Crying alone is just...a little lonely at times.

Love,
Jay