That Friday was the longest day of school ever. The gloomy weather made me want to rush home and finally start my weekend. After the final bell rang, a weight was lifted off my shoulders; I was ready to leave. I met my sister at the car and we were on our way. When we got about half way home, I got a call from my dad. He told us “Don’t come home go to someone's house for a little bit, don’t worry, your mom and Anthony are safe”. My sister and I started to worry. We were thinking of what potentially could have happened to keep us from going home, but we weren’t sure. Approaching our friends house, we decided to take a “drive by” to see what was going on. Upon passing my house, all I could identify were two police cars and an ambulance.

Growing up with divorced parents wasn’t as bad as you would think (for me at least). The only worry I had was making sure I didn’t have any plans every other weekend while I was away at my Dad’s house. Even though my dad was constantly there for my sister and I, the father figure I lived with the most was my step dad. My mom and my step dad were together ever since I was four, so you can imagine how much I would see him. My mom, step dad, Samantha and I would all eat family dinners together at 6:30 every night, because that was the time he would be on break. We would all play Wii and board games together just like a happy family. Then Anthony came along and he made the family complete. Over the years I felt that we grew closer as a family, and I never thought that things could take a turn for the worst.

When I was younger, I had my fair share of experimenting with different sports. I tried cheerleading, tennis and volleyball. I quit them aIl. I could tell my parents were getting frustrated with me at one point, so I decided to try basketball. The difference between basketball and the other sports I played was my coach. My step dad went out and bought me a basketball net and all summer he would be outside with me practicing my lay-ups and free throws. At one point, it seemed like he was investing more of his time into the sport than I was. I ended up playing for four years, and my step dad never missed a single game. He even helped coach one of the teams I was on. When he was working, he would stop by the school gym and watch as much as he could before his break was over. He pushed me to be the best person I could be and helped me stay focused to achieve my goals. Not only did he support me playing basketball, he also supported me through my passion of music.

I’ve always loved music. Singing and playing guitar in front of a crowd has been my passion for as long as I can remember. Unforgettable flashbacks of music memories were created with something as simple as Rock Band on the PlayStation. My step dad and I were addicted to that game. Once we started to play, we couldn’t. Once the moon was in full sight, we knew it was time for bed. Even though he would say it was a “pain in the a**” to set up, he really didn’t mind it as much as he said he did. I would always play drums and sing, while he would play the guitar. Occasionally, we would make trips to his friends house to all play as a band. Reminiscing on those moments never fails to make me smile. That’s just the beginning. Once I got into High School, he wouldn’t miss a single choir concert, guitar concert, or play I was in no matter how boring it was. He told me once that it brought him to tears seeing how much I progressed and how proud I made him. Feelings of pride and importance swiped across my face knowing how invested he was into my life even though he wasn’t my actual father.

I remember the last conversation I had with him like it was yesterday. September 11th, 2014. It was the Thursday before it happened. He knocked on my door, came into my room then paused. “You know your mom and I love you,” he said. I nodded yes. He proceeded to say, “I’m so proud of you and all that you’ve done. If you ever want any music lessons or anything at all I can give it to you. You are so talented and I know you will go far in life.” We couldn’t help but tear up. He gave me a hug then closed the door behind him. I wish I had a different reaction. I wish that I knew exactly what to say in that very moment, but I didn’t know that would be the last time I would ever speak to him. I didn’t know having fun times and making unforgettable memories would come to an end. After the twelve years he spent as an important part in my life, he was gone in twelve hours. No goodbye.

If I’ve ever felt at my lowest point in life, it was looking into the casket of someone I loved. Not a single day goes by when I don’t think about him and to this day I’m still in denial. I feel like he’s going to walk in through the door any minute and keep moving forward like any normal day. But it won’t happen and in the back of my mind I know it won’t. It completely changed the life of me and all of his family and friends; especially his five year old son at the time. Anthony still talks about him all the time, trying to hide the fact that he’s aching inside because he didn’t have his father around. Watching Anthony grow up without a dad made me realized that you have to cherish every single moment you have with someone, because in the blink of an eye they can slip right out of your grasp.