December 3, 2017; the day that my universe came crashing down on me. It began as any other December Sunday would. I awoke to the blaring sounds of my alarm clock and the bitter cold of my basement biting away at my face. I crawled out of bed and began to get ready for my day. About 20 minutes later, I got into my car and trudged to work. The drive there was a quick one, but that particular morning, I got stuck behind a slow car. By the time I pulled into the parking lot of 5 Guys Burgers and Fries, I was running a few minutes late. I grabbed my phone and rushed inside. As I turned my phone to silent, I noticed that I had a missed call from my Dad. He always had the worst timing when calling me. I brushed it off and promised myself that I would call him back later that day.

The next eight hours went by in the blink of an eye. After all, it was a Sunday morning in downtown Brighton. Finally, at 4 o'clock, I clocked out and headed for my car. By then, I had long since forgotten about my missed call from that morning. I drove to Petsmart and picked up some crickets for my bearded dragon, and stopped to look at the Guinea Pigs. I had been bugging for one for quite some time, but knew that it wasn't the day. After a few moments in the store, I checked out and headed for my car. As I sat down, I noticed my phone light up notifying me that I was receiving a call. I answered the phone to hear the frantic sound of my Aunt Katie's voice. She sounded upset, but considering she was a mother of two toddlers, I didn't think too much on it. She explained that she needed to get ahold of my mom immediately, but she wasn't answering her phone. I gave her my stepdads phone number and hung up the phone.

After I left Petsmart I decided that it was time to head home. I had school in the morning and needed to finish up some last minute homework. As I approached my driveway, a weird feeling came over me. It wasn't a physical feeling, but rather an emotional one; one where I knew that something was not quite right. Slowly and cautiously, I made my way inside. I proceeded toward the stairs to go to my bedroom and change, but was halted by the sound of my Mom's crying voice. She told my younger sister and I to have a seat on the couch and to take a deep breath. Little did I know then, this would be the last comfortable breath I would take for a long time.

The first thing she did was tell us that she had some bad news. My mind raced around, thinking about what could possibly be so bad that it had my mom in tears. 'Was it my dog? My Grandmother?' Before I could get too far in my own thoughts, she went on. To this day, I will never forget the words that followed. "Your Aunt Kate just called me." My mom grabbed my sisters and my hands and went on. "Grandma and Grandpa got home from the lake today, and went to check in on Great Grandma and your Dad." My heart dropped. I had really thought that my Great Grandmother had passed away, and in some twisted way, I wish that were the news instead. "I don't know how to tell you girls this. Your Dad didn't wake up." My world stopped in its tracks and I let out a painful scream. She was lying, she had to be. My Dad was only 45 years old. I was only 17. I was too young to be without a Daddy. I remember thinking, 'What about Graduation? He promised me that he would be there.' I was just 6 months shy of one of the biggest days of my life, and now my Dad wouldn't be there to witness it. He would never get to meet his grandchildren, or walk his baby girl down this aisle on my wedding day.

I began to completely lose myself. I remember thinking about that missed call from that morning. I remember the pain of knowing that may have been his last call, and I missed it. I threw myself all over the place, slammed my head on tables, and dug my nails into my hands. I thought to myself, 'This has to be a dream. This isn't real.'. I did what I could to wake up from that nightmare.

But that was the problem; that nightmare was my reality. I would have to learn how to carry on the rest of my life without my Dad by my side. I would have to learn that pictures are everything; because one day, pictures are all you'll have left. I would have to realize that you really never know what you have until it's gone; that it isn't just some phrase people use to make you feel guilty. I would have to learn to hold the people I love most, closer to me. And most importantly, I would have to realize that there's one thing worse than missing someone: guilt.