Last One
The day was October 24, 2014. It started like any other tuesday, waking up ten minutes after my alarm goes off and struggling to get out of bed. Before I was able to muster up the strength to roll out of bed, my mom came in. “Pop is dead,” said through tears. I was shocked. The words hung in the air like the ringing after a gunshot. I had rarely seen my mom cry, so I didn’t know what to do. I just lay there, stunned. Dad is already on his way to the hospital, to say his last goodbye’s. My Pop was one of my role models in life. My dad and I always said, “The strongest people I know are; Rocky Balboa, Louis Zamperini, and Pop.” Losing him was a punch right to the gut of the family. Two weeks before my Pop’s death was the last time I saw him. I was at my friend’s house on a Saturday after sleeping over the night before. We were planning a bunch of activities to do on a beautiful day. I got a call from my dad around 11 o’clock, right after breakfast. He asked me if I wanted to join him and go see my Pop in the hospital. He said that it would just be him and I, and I don’t have to go if I don’t want to. At that time I really didn’t want to “waste” my Saturday in Long Island, but I uncharacteristically decided to go. Looking back, I definitely didn’t waste my time. I love being around my Pop and Nana and getting to see them was very special. On the day that he died one line really stuck in my head from my dad was, “You were the last child to see him.” Two Different Worlds When someone asks who my best friend is, I say Diego. Diego González, the one who lives in Argentina. I haven’t seen or talked to him in the past three years, but he is my best friend. Diego had many of siblings. All of them were so playful I could go over to his house and spend all day talking to his brothers and sisters. Diego was the oldest, which means he was in charge of his siblings. His parents would work all day and come home exhausted, so Diego was the kids’ parent during the day. I still don’t know what they would have done if he wasn’t so responsible. He was so nice we never got in fights, and he always let me win soccer even though he was obviously much better. I would eat dinner other there regularly because his mom made the best spanish food. Diego was the brother I never had, which made our bond so special. …show more content…
But that was all before he left. One day I walked over and all their stuff was packed in boxes ready to go. When he told me he was leaving it was like losing a family member. What would I do now? Alone. But that was 8 years ago, when losing a friend was the worst thing that could possibly happen. I have only seen him once since he left and that was three years ago. He came all the way back to visit for 2 days before returning. His memory is burned into my head and some days I still wonder when he will ever return. Even though he is only in Argentina, we live in two different worlds. One Who Always Knows What To Do For me, the first day of school was like entering the gates of
The day was October 24, 2014. It started like any other tuesday, waking up ten minutes after my alarm goes off and struggling to get out of bed. Before I was able to muster up the strength to roll out of bed, my mom came in. “Pop is dead,” said through tears. I was shocked. The words hung in the air like the ringing after a gunshot. I had rarely seen my mom cry, so I didn’t know what to do. I just lay there, stunned. Dad is already on his way to the hospital, to say his last goodbye’s. My Pop was one of my role models in life. My dad and I always said, “The strongest people I know are; Rocky Balboa, Louis Zamperini, and Pop.” Losing him was a punch right to the gut of the family. Two weeks before my Pop’s death was the last time I saw him. I was at my friend’s house on a Saturday after sleeping over the night before. We were planning a bunch of activities to do on a beautiful day. I got a call from my dad around 11 o’clock, right after breakfast. He asked me if I wanted to join him and go see my Pop in the hospital. He said that it would just be him and I, and I don’t have to go if I don’t want to. At that time I really didn’t want to “waste” my Saturday in Long Island, but I uncharacteristically decided to go. Looking back, I definitely didn’t waste my time. I love being around my Pop and Nana and getting to see them was very special. On the day that he died one line really stuck in my head from my dad was, “You were the last child to see him.” Two Different Worlds When someone asks who my best friend is, I say Diego. Diego González, the one who lives in Argentina. I haven’t seen or talked to him in the past three years, but he is my best friend. Diego had many of siblings. All of them were so playful I could go over to his house and spend all day talking to his brothers and sisters. Diego was the oldest, which means he was in charge of his siblings. His parents would work all day and come home exhausted, so Diego was the kids’ parent during the day. I still don’t know what they would have done if he wasn’t so responsible. He was so nice we never got in fights, and he always let me win soccer even though he was obviously much better. I would eat dinner other there regularly because his mom made the best spanish food. Diego was the brother I never had, which made our bond so special. …show more content…
But that was all before he left. One day I walked over and all their stuff was packed in boxes ready to go. When he told me he was leaving it was like losing a family member. What would I do now? Alone. But that was 8 years ago, when losing a friend was the worst thing that could possibly happen. I have only seen him once since he left and that was three years ago. He came all the way back to visit for 2 days before returning. His memory is burned into my head and some days I still wonder when he will ever return. Even though he is only in Argentina, we live in two different worlds. One Who Always Knows What To Do For me, the first day of school was like entering the gates of