Dear Dad,

I don't know where to start. I don't usually write or talk about you to anyone. It's April again, a month that I don't really care for at all. It's when we lost you. That day is forever branded in the back of my mind where I usually hide other things. Some things like birthdays, trips and sports games I have forgotten, but that day will never be one of them. I think of you every day, either with something that reminds me I am like you or just when I'm alone.

I'm also thankful every day that I was able to say goodbye to you, but it wasn't the goodbye I was expecting. You tucked me in at grandma and grandpa's before heading off to work in the dead of night like you usually did. You were a great man who put his kids, wife and family before himself and worked late at night, so you were able to spend time with them during the day, even if it was only for a little bit. Before you left the room after tucking me in, I asked, "Hey Dad, can we ride motorcycles tomorrow when you get back?"

You, of course, said, "You bet," and before you closed the door, thankfully I said, "Goodnight, Dad. Love you." You said, "Goodnight. Love you too, son. I'll see you tomorrow." At the time, I thought tomorrow was when I woke up; little did I know, that day would never come.

I woke up like any regular Sunday as a nine-year-old, dreading to have to go to church. Yes, I was nine years old when this happened. I always say with that, "I was old enough to understand but too young for it to happen to." Grandma had taken us back to the house to get a change of clothes, and while I was waiting on the floor for my sisters to get ready, a knock came from the door. Grandma was close enough to the door that she answered, and to my surprise, there was a police officer on the other side.

I couldn't make out what they were saying, so I didn't pay any attention. Once the officer had left, however, grandma quickly told us to just put on whatever, and we needed to just get in the car. We did, and we didn't go where I was expecting; we went straight to my Aunt B's house a little ways down the road. We got to the driveway, and before we went anywhere else, it was my aunt who came and met us half way down the drive before we could even get out. My grandma told us to stay in the car, but I noticed that after only a few words between the two that they both had started crying. I was completely confused by then and didn't know what to think.

Grandma then got back into the car, and we got up to the house. We all went in, and she put us kids on the couch. After about an hour or so, a few family members started showing up one after the other, and then grandma and grandpa pulled me in the bathroom away from everyone. They handled it as best as they could and said, "Chance, we need to tell you something. Someone has passed away in the family." Of course, I start rambling off the names of people I hadn't seen in awhile, trying to guess who it was. They came to say, "No, Chance, it's your dad." My world, like everyone's, dropped. I was never the same.

I lost the man who was supposed to teach me the "rules of the road," how to act and how not to act. I lost my first best friend. I then ran out of the bathroom, breaking grandpa's hold on me, and when I came out, I turned to my right, looking down the hallway to my sisters sitting there on the couch not knowing what lied ahead for them. In that split second, I wondered how they would take it, how we would cope or just be the same. After that, I threw open the door to go outside and started running. At the time, I didn't know where I was going, but in later years as I got older, I now know that I was running to you, trying to find you in this cruel and unfair world so that I can wake up from this nightmare. My cousin, Anthony, grabbed me before I went too far out of sight and tried to calm me down by saying it'll be alright, but I knew it wasn't alright. It never would be.

Days went to weeks and then weeks to years that I spent alone with my thoughts and emotions. I wasn't technically alone, of course; I had my family and friends. It was just a different kind of loneliness. (You'll understand what I mean if you've been there or are.) Weeks of therapy and the constant reminder that I'd have to be the man of the house just made me retreat into myself and repress everything. I put on a smile, so Mom wouldn't have to pay for therapy anymore; the constant flow of people would stop staring at me and reminding me that I'm alone to be the man of the house.

Several years after that, I don't really remember. I've figured I've just repressed them in a way of coping with the situation. The one thought that stayed with me during that gap in time was that I didn't care to be alone; I preferred it. It wasn't until eighth grade that I really have a good memory of things. That's when I was seeing a gap between me and my friends. They were going one way with the stuff that was coming up around that time, and I was still stuck in my house playing games, not caring that I was alone because I was still having trouble with losing my dad. I felt like no one understood me, a concept that I see now in other people that I used to make fun of is actually what I had as well for most of my life. For example, at our school, we have a guy who carries around fake swords. People make fun of him for it, and he's not all that popular. When I see him sitting alone in the cafeteria, with just him and his thoughts, I see an old me. He was unfortunately not accepted by society or this world for things that he liked or what he looked like, so he in turn didn't like this one. He made a new world, one to where everything was alright, one where he was accepted and in my case, where no one died. I didn't have the swords, but my regular day was go to school, "act" normal with friends and come right back home to play games alone. Sports or outside activities didn't really interest me because they were with friends who always had their dads there, and if I didn't know how something went, I would get laughed at. I joined my friends later down the road though because I got better, and I didn't want to be left behind in growing up and moving on with life anymore.

Now, we can jump forward to present day, not as bad as the years past, but I have just made that a different side of me that I keep in the back of my mind most of the time. Hell, now if you saw me, you'd know I'm as social as they come! I got a piece of it, and now I can't get enough. You can always find me somewhere, having fun, trying to make someone laugh and just making the most of the life I've been given. With any death, the people left behind receive the priceless knowledge that things never last, so you must appreciate them while they're there. Among many lessons that I've learned after your death that I learned way before my time, that has been the most important.

To finish it up, Dad, I miss you. We all miss you. My only wish is for you to be with me and all the family as we keep going down the road of life. I know I'll need it if I want to be at least half the man you were. Be with Mom because I know she'll need all the help she can get with those crazy girls pretty much all being in high school. I know I was an angel sent from heaven during my time in high school, and it was easy street for Mom. Be with Abbie as she's getting older by the minute, about to graduate high school and become a college student like her older brother. Be with Madison as she is just as social as I am and isn't too far from senior year herself. Be with Delaney as she is about to enter into the realm of high school and all that has to offer. Be with the whole family, and hopefully they are not still in the coping state as I was years ago. Hopefully, they are at peace with what has been and what will always be, until we meet you up in the sky.

With all the love I can give,

Chance Douglas Wheelan, Your Son