My father passed away when I was 2 years old in a drunk driving accident. He left behind a wife of almost 10 years and 4 young children. Everyday day of my life since I was 18 years old, I hated him for what he did to my family. How could someone be so selfish to take their own life and leave their loved ones in the dark for a lifetime of pain and suffering? He just left us here and didn’t even consider the fact that we would have to live our lives hurting forever. There hasn’t been a day of my life that has gone by that I haven’t thought about my father. About how different my life would be had he not driven home that night. And there hasn’t been a day that has gone by that I have forgave my father for what he did to me.
About 2 years ago, my sister was at a bar in our hometown and struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to her. When she told the man her name, he somewhat froze and had a glaring look across his face like he saw a ghost. The man told my sister that he was the one who found my father at the scene of the accident. The accident had happened right in front of his country home late that night. He told my sister from beginning to end what had happened that night when he found my father. He said that my father was talking and trying to get out of his truck to walk around. He said that my father mentioned his wife and children at home. He said that my father was alive when the paramedics arrived that night.
My sister was so full of emotion to hear the man say all of these things that she had never heard before. Because in 1987 when my father died, the police told my mom that my father died instantly. That my father died on impact and there was nothing to do.
I have lived my entire life hating my father for what he did to my family and I. But after hearing this mans story and knowing that my father’s last words were of concern for his family, it makes me feel whole again. It doesn’t replace the fact that he’s gone, but it makes me realize that I shouldn’t be so quick to judge. Everyone has a story and sometimes when stories get passed from person to person it doesn’t seem to end as it started. The police officer was one of my fathers best friends and told my mom something that was easier for her to hear. I believe that every story should be heard, because you never know when it’s going to go back to the beginning and start with the truth.
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