Car Crash

I woke up from a nap earlier today…

It was dark. I was driving on a familiar street, yet a street I rarely drive on. I had a hard time seeing.

I hate driving at night.

I yield right to turn on the busy street. There was a bit of traffic. I patiently waited until it was clear. I saw a girl in her black car. It seemed she was slowing down to stop. I turned right onto busy intersection.

I looked into my rearview mirror I saw the girl’s car directly behind mine. Immediately, the lane divided as a right turn only lane.

Dammit.

I signaled left and turned my head over my shoulder. It looked clear. I began to turn, I heard a loud, BOOM from behind. Then another, BOOM on the driver side of my car. I heard honking and tires 

screeching.

My eyes were blurred.

My head was titled onto my left shoulder. I moaned.

I’m still alive. 

I tried moving my head.

I woke up bringing my head up to the right.

• My dreaming mind is telling me a lot. It's just so hard to start all over especially when you're forced to.
• I'm still hopeful.

I Called 911

I had another dream about my father.

We were working in the garage on one of the cars and it exploded. White sparks flew into the air. He was standing right next to it. I rushed to call 911.

I remember that Tuesday night when I called, it seemed like forever until the ambulance came. My mom was running around the house yelling, "When is 911 coming?!!!!"

One of the scariest moments of my life.

The dream is a blur to me now (I stopped myself from writing it down when I woke up. The pages would have been covered in tears.)

On bended knee, the female paramedic talked my father while he lied in bed. She asked the routine questions they are trained to ask. She said a few words to me too. 


He was still breathing, but not responsive. 

Out of no where, there was two of him. One still alive on his bed and the other dead on the floor.


I know he's gone, but a part of me wants to believe he's coming back home. That he's still in the hospital waiting to be discharged.

I find myself constantly repeating that Tuesday night he was rushed to the hospital, and his last days on Earth.

I'll Be Missing You...

He was lying in his usual spot. Half asleep and half awake listening to one of his favorite game shows. I came home late that night. "Do you want any In-N-Out fries?"

He quietly shook head his no.

He was in my dream last night. He had a taste for In-N-Out.

The morning before just after dawn, I heard him call for "Help!" Twice. Within fifteen minutes. He called my name too. He had slightly fallen to his side and didn't have the strength to pull himself up. "Why do you keep falling down?"

"I don't know," he said as he put out his hand. I lifted him right side up.

In my dream he also asked for help. He needed a hand again.

When he was rushed to the hospital Tuesday night, I didn't think it be his last time at home.

Early Thursday morning, I felt an excruciating pain on the left side of my chest right upon my breast.

My father passed away December 1, 2011. 

My mind had prepared for this day for years, but my heart had not.

Every time I look out our front door window or as I pull into the driveway, I'm hoping that he'd be sitting his car. 

I keep thinking what could have I done differently. I should have taken care of him better. I should have pushed him more to take his medication. I should have. I should have...

Should have doesn't change anything. 

Life is going to be so different. It is different now. I miss him. I miss you, Daddy.

"Memories give me the strength I need to proceed, strength I need to believe..."