I can still remember that feeling in the hospital; I can still remember the carpet. When they told me what happened, when I saw the tear. The carpet. The feeling. The tear.
It was when I was eleven years old and I got a call that my dad was in the hospital. They told my mom he was fine nothing big. We rushed to the hospital. That was the longest car ride I ever had. It was quiet every ones mind was overwhelmed. After what seemed like days. We parked and rushed in the hospital. They told my mother what happened her face went white and she looked weak. That was terrifying but the feeling I had when they told me was like no other. The fireman said “Your father fell 14ft…I’m sorry he broke his back…and some very important parts of his body.” Then the feeling it happened. I suddenly felt like the carpet of my life {the one I floated on easily} was being pulled from under me, while my breath left me and I felt dizzy. It felt like sorrow in my tong. The taste of sorrow came with a side of pain. This unexplainable pain, which was traced to my heart. I went to see my daddy. I walked in the room followed by my two sisters. My brother came after that with my other baby sister. I looked at my dad and there was pain in his eyes, but the tear drop that flowed down his cheek was the hardest thing I ever saw.
I felt angry and sad at the same time. I felt tears coming but I fought them. I fought them for my three little sisters, for my little brother. I had to be strong. I didn’t want to leave but I had to. I cried my eyes out at night, I don’t think anyone knew. My daddy was flown to our city where he would be closer to home. My family and I rode a plane but not the same one as my dads. We had gone for my dad’s job but, our home was in miles away . The first plane was a pain I had a horrible headache {my dad later said it was air pressure}. The second ride was sad. We got home and my family helped my father threw these times.

That year my dad came home he used canes like old men. Holding his back as he walked. He was alive. My dad didn’t die. Die, what a horrible word…one that must happen after a lifetime to everyone.

In new years it’s my mom’s birthday. After a few days my mom was taken to a hospital. Die, was the word that popped in my mind followed by terror. Later we found she had a tumor…a cancer tumor. After quite a few days she came out. She took chemotherapy every other week, which made her weak and skinny. She lost her hair but thank God she didn’t go bald. The next two years was tough, I’m the oldest, my oldest sister is six years younger than me, and then the next is seven years younger the last is eight years younger. And my brother is two years younger than me. I helped as much as I could and I am positive my siblings did too. But the pain in my parent’s eyes hurt me. I know my parents wanted to raise us strictly and want us to be responsible and independent. But I could see they wanted to spoil us a little bit. But the money is low without that much labor.

Things have gotten better, but I know what helps people now. A smile. A smile makes people feel better, more confident and look good. Even when the problems are huge I do the hardest thing I can ever do, I smile. I smile in bad or good. Of course I do cry I’m human. But crying never gets you anything but sorrow. So then I pray “God help me smile, help me help people be happy” then I wipe my tears and smile. I throw in some laughs and giggles in people think “chill out”. But why not laugh? Laugh is the Symbol of joy. I want to be a psychologist. I know what I’m going to do to every patient, to every kid that comes to my children psychologist place I’m going to smile at them. And hopefully that will pull a smile out of them.