The Lion's Pride Lion's Pride Volume 12 (Spring 2019) | Page 56

pueblo, where he would spend his final days. We loaded the truck. In it
were my father, my uncle Lupe, and me. The five-hour ride to his pueblo
was long, but I was determined to cherish every second I had left with
my father. We were one hour away from our destination, and my father
began to have chills and uncontrollable shaking. All the color he had on
his face was no longer there, and he was pale and weak. I knew what
was to come in the next hour. Though I began to prepare myself, an
abundance of emotions began to hit me all at once. I was angry because
he could have prevented this if he would have stopped drinking when
the doctors told him to. I was sad because I would no longer have my
father and because my younger siblings were too young to have known
what a wonderful man he actually was. I cried right there and then. In
silence, I wanted to be strong and not look weak. I needed to get myself
together because soon I would have to fill my father's shoes. As my
father began to get weaker and weaker, I began to comfort him. My
father had a worried look in his face, like he was trying to fight death,
and he wanted more time. I could see the desperation in his eyes. My
uncle turned to me and said, “tell him not to worry, and that you’ll be in
charge, that you’ll take care of your siblings. Let him know that it’s okay
to let go.” As my hands held his cold body and tears ran down my face, I
told him exactly that. As the last word came out of my mouth, his body
began to get cold, and he took his final breath. I told him not to worry