The Long Road and My Father's Journey
The altitude increases from north to south, although the significant height is 2,240 meters above sea level. Where I live, I am 5 meters above sea level. On this occasion, I am traveling alone without my wife and children.
The plane is full of passengers. This is the first time I will arrive at the new Felipe Angeles International Airport. This airport is very far from my parents' home. After almost a two and a half hour flight, the airplane starts descending. I can see the valley of Mexico City through the window, almost landing, but suddenly I get a phone call. While I'm flying, I get confused and I refuse that call.
I see that my sister was calling me. For the second time, my phone vibrates but I reject the call again and begin receiving messages on WhatsApp. The message comes from my sister Teresa. When I read her message, I was disturbed and bewildered, not believing what it said: my dad just died.
That message shocks me. Finally, I land and look for transportation to go with my mother and siblings. In my mind, memories of my dad flood back. (I donated a kidney to my father 31 years ago, so I believe that I feel strange sensations as if I were still connected with him). I feel like something has died inside of me—a very strange feeling.
I
feel both anxiety and fear, but I try to stay calm, breathing deeply while I
look out the bus window.
I arrive and call my daughter, asking her to pick me up at the bus station. While I’m waiting, I enter a Starbucks and try to drink some water, but I feel short of breath. Suddenly, my daughter Ximena calls me. I walk over to where she is and see that she has come with someone—I assume it's her boyfriend.
After a hug and meeting her boyfriend, I see that she is carefully observing my reactions, but I try to appear fine. I think I'm still in shock. As we walk to her car, I start feeling dizzy and struggle to breathe. Without worrying them, I ask to stop at a store to buy a Coca-Cola, thinking I might be hypoglycemic and hoping the drink will raise my blood pressure.
In my mind, I deny the moment I'll have to face in a few minutes. Finally, I arrived but my other brothers were missing, one is living in Mississippi, and couldn't travel, but my other two are coming from Atlanta. I know this is a very difficult time for everyone.
I arrive at the hospital and find it hard to breathe—I feel exhausted. But I have to handle this situation. The first people I see are my mother dressed in black and some relatives. Now the grief sinks in. I stand strong while we hug. When I see my mother silently crying, she tells me, "After sixty years with your father, I can't believe this would happen."
I can imagine that after her words, she has to appear strong. And I know that despite this, she is strong and her strength fortifies me too. Her words make me feel a little more at peace.
Three days after my dad's passing, I didn’t have the energy to continue with my BYU online courses. I send my teachers emails informing them of my situation and asking for time to submit homework later in the week. After some hours, my teachers responded, accepting my request.
I'm still depressed but against my will, I continue making an effort to complete assignments. My wife also travels to stay with me during this hard time for our family. I have to admit, a few months ago, my wife and I almost separated. All of that took a toll and overwhelmed me. But seeing her support now, I feel her love and commitment despite everything.
After a few days, I want to give up—I can’t continue. I don’t have the focus for programming or other courses. After two weeks though, I decided to keep pushing forward. I've missed one course but will try to catch up on the others as best I can. In my mind, I already gave up, so I decide to email requesting her assistance in granting me a W (withdrawal from the course).
I decide to email requesting her assistance in granting me a withdrawal. A couple hours later, I see a response from my teacher. Reading her answer, I understand the challenges and trials ahead and realize I'm obligated to keep exerting more effort. My teacher says she can wait for me and urges me to keep trying.
So against my instincts, I start working again little by little. Two weeks pass and I'm at the same place in my courses. But by the end of the semester, I finally pass all of my classes.
I have to rely on God's strength to get through this adversity—to never let me falter. I feel strong and capable with Him close and know that nobody can stand against me. Despite the painful moments, I learned to never give up. I didn’t know I had this kind of perseverance, but discovering this part of myself has been enlightening.
Now, almost seven months later, I have one conclusion about my dad: Even though he only studied up to 3rd grade, he left me with many teachings. I can say without a doubt that he was a warrior in life
