I can still feel his arms around me, engulfing me in a big bear hug. The way I always felt so protected when he was around. I can hear his laugh, filling up the emptiness of the house, or how loud he was at one of my school concerts cheering me on from the audience even when I messed up. I can smell his cologne wafting after him as he meandered upstairs before bed.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. The day I lost the most amazing father figure. The one who would do anything and everything he could to make sure I was happy. Before I had left the house to go to summer camp, I was such a bitch to him. Yelling about how I'd see him later that week, even though it turned out to be somewhat of a lie.

The day had started like any other that week. I got out of bed, showered and went off to my music classes. It was sunny outside, maybe some clouds were hanging in the blue sky. I was in my chorus class going over some difficult parts of a german song that we were supposed to be memorizing, when the young man came into the room interrupting, saying I needed to pack up and come with him. As I packed my binder into my bag, I was thinking about what might have happened. Why was I being pulled out of a class I was so excited for? On the walk to his office, he says my Mom and Papa were here. As we walked through the door, my Mom was sitting on the couch, tears in her eyes. The first words to leave my mouth, "Who died?". I sat next to my Mom, my Papa standing next to us as she said it was Tom. I broke. I hugged her tightly and started weaping. I went home with them and remember just laying in my bed, not sure what to do.

The funeral day came, and my Auntie Tammy smelled of bleach. She tells me that it was because her shirt had a stain and she couldn't finish drying it in time. We got to the funeral home and the rool is all too quiet. People tell stories of Tom. None of it mattered. I get up to go say goodbye, looking at his once bright and smiling face to see a greyed out shadow of a reminder of who he was. I finally break. I can't hold it in any longer and start crying again. I say my goodbye to him, remembering how I never actually told him I loved him even though my heart was breaking into thousands of pieces at the loss of my almost Dad. We all go to the elks so that everyone can cheers to Tom's life and how he made all of our lives better. Half way through, my brother and I are ready to leave. My brother drives me back to the camp I was staying at, hugging me before I go inside and tells me how proud of me he is and how much he loves me. I'm still numb, but i'm at least hanging on to what little composure I have as I walk back up the stairs to bed.

My only regret, is not telling him I loved him before I left the house that day. He was and i'm sure still is very proud of me, but the world grew darker that day onward for me. I'd like to think he's somewhere, sitting in a chair and making friends, laughing at old stories he can tell.