Sometimes You Just Have to Cry
I remembered losing my father to a sudden car accident a number of years ago. I tried to remain strong through it all. One day, when a song came on the radio that reminded me of my dad, I completely 1)lost it. It was the first time since the 2)funeral that I just 3)let go and cried. It felt good to not 4)hold back anymore.
The earliest memory I have of my father is one of me as a young boy holding his hand by his two last fingers as we walked together. His hands seemed so large that his fingers were all I could actually 5)grip. He always took me with him to basketball games even at my young age. I will never forget that.
As I grew older I remember dad and I listening to high school basketball games together on an old 6)transistor radio. I would make a list of players’ names on a piece of paper and 7)keep track of how many points each would score as the game went on. Too small to stay awake for the whole game, I always fell asleep before the game ended. When I would wake up in the morning I would find the score 8)sheet lying next to me. The score sheet would be filled out with the final score on it completed by my father before he carried me to bed.
In high school I became very interested in athletics. My father would attend all my games. My 9)senior year our football team qualified to play in the state 10)championship game. It was the first time in the history of our school that any team had advanced that far. The night before the game my father came to me and sadly announced that he would not be able to attend. He had to deliver the bread to the stores and the site of the games was a three hour drive from his route. Back then I acknowledged his comments without fully noticing his regret.
The next day as game time approached I couldn’t help thinking about my dad. Suddenly, I saw his blue and white bread truck pulling into the stadium. He has delivered the bread and made the long drive in time to at least see part of the game in which we won the state championship.
Years later I had become a teacher and coach. Early one morning I was awakened by the sound of the telephone ringing at 5:30 A.M. As I 11)struggled to answer the phone I’ll never forget the sound of the 12)sheriff’s voice on the other end telling me that my dad had just been killed in an automobile accident on his way to work. As I listened to the fact I could hear my heart beat in my ears. I hung up the phone 13)devastated. It felt as if my heart had been 14)torn away and in a sense it had.
For a long time I pretended that I didn’t care and still lived my own life. But one day I was on the school playground, a little boy walked up to me and grabbed my hand by my last two fingers. Just like I used to do to my dad. When that little boy touched my hand I realized I missed my dad so much and I hoped that he were there for me. And I lost it again but I felt a sense of relief.
Now I have my own child, like his father, there will be times in my son’s life when he will feel pain. Whatever he will face, I hope he could remember the words “It’s okay. Sometimes you just have to cry. It won’t need to hold back anymore. ”