I Remember those Years... Anonymous

"In the event of my death, all my possessions will go to my wife, Joanna H. Lee." I read it again. As I slowly laid down the will on the well-glossed mahogany table, a series of perturbations and sorrows left me in a state of apprehension. The words, "I love you," could be the last words I would ever hear from my father. All I could do is pray for his surgery-pray that not it would be successful and his gastrointestinal cancer would be gone.

I was different. My first year of high school was different. My goal was different. Freshman year was a year of fear. Only months after the surgery, I was afraid; afraid I might have to dial the three numbers I never imagined I'd call again. I remember those sirens wailing, those red and white lights screaming through the breathless night. I remember the IV tubes I would set up next to my father's bed. I remember the car ride home from chemotherapy, the white face sucked of life, straining in agonizing pain.

But that's not what I remember most vividly. The emotion and stress of my sophomore year is what will stay with me forever. I remember the countless days I would not buy lunch. I remember when my parents would find two hundred dollars left in the bank...