I could hardly breathe, pulling jokes on Marlee has been an eighth grade daily routine. The best joke i’ve ever done to Marlee was when I called her in Washington D.C saying I lost my cell phone. Its funny because without hesitation she yelled, “Has anyone seen Lauren’s black, droid razr with the pink rhinestones?” At the time, stupid jokes like that were hilarious.  

When the Washington D.C trip came to an end, I was anxious to go back home. Coming home from Washington D.C was like a weight lifted off my shoulders, I was happy to sleep in my own bed. I live with Grandma, Dad and his girlfriend Angela. When I got home Dad and Angela left to go pick up food. I was exhausted and I fell asleep as soon as they walked out the front door. When Grandma suddenly started banging on my bedroom door, she was hysterically crying and I thought she had either gotten hurt or was having a mental breakdown. I've never jumped out of bed so quick. I was worried that maybe my dog, Diddy had an accident in the living room and I was about to get b****ed out for it.  Jumping out of bed on christmas morning, didn’t even compare to this. I opened the door

                    
“We have to go to the hospital, now!” she said.

“alright grandma, one second.” I mumbled.

  I slipped on a pair of black flip flops and got in the car. I didn’t dare to ask any questions on the way there because Grandma was driving like she might of drank a fifth of whiskey, all to herself. But my grandma is not a drinker, and usually drives very slow. This car ride in particular is one that I will never forget.

When we arrived at St. Joseph Mercy Hospital. I still didn’t have a clue why Grandma was in such a panic but when I saw my aunts, Christina and Cindy,  grandma Mary and grandpa Hal and Cousins in the waiting room, I knew something was very wrong. A nurse named Carly had Grandma and I follow her to a room. Sitting in the room was Angela and I was shocked to see Dad as a patient.

The doctor came into the room but before he could talk my dad said to me

“Everything is going to be alright, buddy.” I nodded my head and smiled, but the reassurance look I wanted from the doctor wasn’t there. The doctor said “The MRI showed a brain abscess, that is causing too much pressure on the brain and this tumor in particular, could burst at any moment. It will kill him instantly.” The chances of Jarrod Mitchell making it over night are slim. I thought to myself, how did I not notice that he was sick. We stayed the night at the hospital for a few weeks. A couple times, I went home to grab new clothes and shower. Two weeks later, Dad was ready for surgery. The abscess did not shrink as much as it should’ve with the antibiotics, but they needed to do something to relieve the pressure. They decided the best thing to do, is the surgery.

The day of surgery we were given a pager like the ones you are given when you are put on wait at a restaurant.  Pastor Kurt, and the rest of my family waited for someone to come out and give us news. Christina left the room a couple times when her son, Michael called. I also tried calling my Mom while we were waiting, but she didn’t answer. The last time I talked to her was before I left to go to Washington D.C. I was anxious to tell her everything that has happened but I was irritated when she didn’t call me back. Six hours later, the pager started flashing red and vibrating. We were taken into another room, and the doctor said, “Jarrod made it through surgery, but there is a chance he may have lost his short term memory, speech and the ability to walk, we won’t know the damage done, until he wakes up.” 

Thankfully my dad was able to come home a few weeks after his surgery. He was able to walk and recovering his speech was difficult at first for him but he was able to get speech therapy and that seemed to help. When we came home I told Dad,  “I tried to call Mom a few times, but she never returned any of my calls.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” he said.

Later that night he was the one who broke the news to me that mom passed away from a heroin overdose. Her funeral was the same day as my cousin Michael who passed away in the Navy. 

Today, my dad struggles with short term memory loss and seizures. My worst memory was leaving for my eighth grade washington D.C trip and not being able to come home to what I had here before, I left.  I’m a senior now and this memory is one that runs across my mind everyday. I know i’m not the only one who has lost somebody close, but as much as they tell you it gets easier, it doesn’t. You just learn to cope with time.