Let go

October 1st 2017, was a sunny day with clouds in the air that were bigger than a boat. Little did the world know it was the day it would be my first time learning how death could teach me a thing or two. Waking up to a glass of warm coffee and a crying baby, in which was the only niece of mine. Before this crucial day my parents had split up and I ended up living with my sister. My dad stayed in our childhood home and my mom got a new apartment with her boyfriend and my brother. At the time my sisters husband, well now ex husband, just left the house for good and my sister was in this deep hole of depression and was never home. She was always out drink and doing things that never really made any sense. I learned my sister would buy things to fill up the hole this man had left her but in the end she would give up and sell the item in which she had purchased. In 2017 I was a junior in high school ,I didn’t know much but I learned very quickly how to take care of a child that wasn’t mine. It seems that many children in El Paso learn this it’s sorta a natural thing i’ve seen it every where. So my father took the separation very difficult he tried his best to talk with us and socialize with us but at that time it was already to late to catch up. My father was hard headed man or here in El Paso we would say old school, he would pay the bills while my mom cooked and cleaned for everyone. A construction worker is always out in the sun and that was my father career he was good with building/inventing things. But the one thing he was most good at was painting. Art flows through my family, like many others could be music, cooking, organizing etc,. But he would also come home drunk and yelling at everyone after work. It was pretty much and every day thing, my parents would fight and we would leave our home and sleep in other peoples homes or even the parks, behind stores etc. After awhile it gets old and you get used to the same thing over and over so my mom would sleep on the couch and my brother and I shared a room, my sister had her own house with her husband and child so she didn’t know what was going on. No body was really home and once you would enter the house you could just feel the sadness that runs through the air. My mom got me and my brother together and talked to us on how we felt at home because it was affecting the way we were at school. We had told her it wasn’t the same and we didn’t like going home anymore so she took initiative and told my father we were leaving and we grab all of our things and never turned back. My father gave up he didn’t know what else to do there wasn’t much he could’ve done either way we were stuck on emotion that we didn’t want to see the good. So on October 1st 2017 my father takes his own life in our childhood home. I’ve never heard so many cries and screams that day the sunny day turned into a long cold cloudy day. Since that day on we never spoke about my dad we don’t even talk to his side of the family because they hate my mom for what she did but they don’t really know why we left and the things we were going through. I picked up anxiety and massive drug abuse after my father passed and now in 2020 I’ve grown to see and appreciate the things that were given to me. I work harder every day to give the thing my loved ones need but at the same time I miss the old days when my dads side of the family would come to our house and have a small gathering here and there. It’s difficult to not have family on your side when you really need it the most. It’s July first and it’s my fathers birthday and that’s why I’m here to tell my story my he Rest In Peace and be a memory I’ll never forget.