He died too young

By:

Laila Salaam  on 01/27/2008 (viewed 1119 times)

Where:

North Bend, Oregon     Country:   

When:

September, 1981

Memory:

I remember the morning that I called home to talk to my Dad. I never did that. After I grew up and moved out we had this weird love/hate relationship that was never resolved. That morning, though I never did it any other time, I called and asked to talk to Dad. Mom said he was still sleeping, but she would have him call me when he got up to go to work.

I never got that call.

The call I got was from my Grandmother, three hours later. She said she needed to talk to me and that she was coming over. Dad had had a heart attack. His heart literally blew apart in his chest. The paramedics worked on him for over two hours, but my dad had died, and I never got to tell him that I loved him, that very last time.

That was 27 years ago. I was 19 and he was 43.