Daddy

I am a teenage girl, but not your average teenage girl. Yes I love posting selfies and going out an partying. But I also love learning about the world around us, reading, talking to people face to face instead of through text or over the phone. I love smiling, and spreading my happiness to those around me. I love helping people when I am able to help them. I love going to school, and working. I specially love working for the things I have. I take more pride in the things I own knowing I worked my ass off to get them, rather than having them handed to me by my mommy. I know what it's like to struggle, to be in a rough spot, to not have money. But I also know what it's like to feel happiness and to be rich. Not rich with money, but rich with love, friends and laughter. That's the best kind of rich their is.
When my father passed there were many people that came to his funeral. Of course I was second in the line of family members. He was my dad. My first love. My protector. And he still is. He always will be. As everyone shook my hand, and gave me sympathy for my loss, there was one thing that everyone ALWAYS said. "You're father was a hard worker." Every time. Every person that shook my hand said this. And it stuck in my head. It makes me want to give it my all and be the best that I can possibly be. With him passing I feel I have learned and gained a lot. The biggest thing I have taken away from this horrible tragedy is to LOVE EVERYONE. Show unconditional love ALL THE TIME. Say I love you AS MUCH AS YOU CAN. Because you never know when it's your time to go, or someone else's time to go. My dad always told me he was invincible. He's been shot while hunting, struck with lightening, had brain damage due to a rough fall, been shocked with 480 volts of electricity at work, and he lived through it all. I really thought my daddy had a horseshoe hidden up his ass. ....Then March 4th came around. It was a normal day. I was sitting in my international business class, when I got a call from my step mom. I ignored it. But then I got a text saying "It's dad." I shot up out of my seat and ran out of my class room and called her back. She told me to hurry, to come NOW, come fast, while crying uncontrollably. I grabbed my things, and ran out to my car. I drove as fast as I could. It took me about 20 minutes, but it was the longest 20 minutes of my life. What was I going to drive into? Did he fall down the stairs? Did he trip outside? Is he having a heart attack? I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay. When I pulled up to my father house, there was a fire truck, ambulance, and three police offers sitting on my road. I knew it was bad but I still had hope. I ran out of my car up to the first person I saw, which happened to be a police officer. I asked him what happened and he told me to go inside and sit down. I asked him one more time what happened and the look in his eyes broke my heart. I immediately fell to the ground, looked up at him and screamed WHERE IS MY DADDY. Then he told me........
"I'm so sorry" Is all he said. It's all he needed to say and I knew. I was too late. I didn't get to say goodbye. I never got the chance to talk to him about what happened between him and my mom, or if he thought about me while he sat in his jail cell for half of my life. I never got to apologize to him for getting mad at him for leaving me when I was little. I never got to tell him how proud I was of him and the amazing man he had become and was still becoming. I never got the chance to just say "You know dad, you mean sooooooooooo much to me. I can't thank you enough for showing me love, and support. I love you dad. More than you will ever know." SO PLEASE. STOP the bullying. STOP the hate. LOVE EVERYONE. HELP each other. And spend as much time with family and friends as possible. Because you never know when it might be your last day seeing them.