by Krista Cox

Created on: July 01, 2007

The day my father died was the hardest day of my life. He had been sick for 9 months and we all knew he was going to die and we all thought we were ready for it, but who can ever really be ready to face the death of someone that was such an important part of your life? I come from a very close family. My dad has 4 brothers and 1 sister. Growing up every weekend was spent with all the aunts, uncles and cousins. As a teen I began to stray away from my family and began using drugs and getting into a lot of trouble. By 17 my parents had kicked me out of the house but would let me come home and stand on their front porch and eat something every once in a while when I hadn't eaten for days. I did a lot of bad things and hurt my family in many ways, including allowing my boyfriend to rob my parents house. Without my knowing he also stole a collection of old shotguns that belonged to my dads dad. My mom let me come home to sleep one night just so she could have the police at the house to wake me in the morning and take me to jail. I was sentenced to an intense inpatient drug rehab and I completed the program with a lot of support from my parents. After completing the rehab I went back out and got on drugs again, this time using harder drugs than I had ever used before. I finally got tired of my life and scared of myself and called my dad to come and move me out of my house and bring me home. He was there immediately after work. It was very hard being there. I had had my license suspended and we lived in the country so I was basically stuck in the house unless my mom dropped me off at a friends house or if that friend picked me up. A couple of months after being home I was getting antsy and wanted to leave and start using again. I found out I was pregnant. There was no way I would do anything to hurt this baby. My parents supported me throughout my pregnancy and helped me to make some big changes in my life. My sons father wanted nothing to do with us. That was fine with me. We would be just fine by ourselves and probably better off because he still used drugs. I met a man and we married and now have 2 other children. My husband legally adopted my oldest son and I have been clean and kept my life on the right track for over 8 years now. As my father was getting sicker and getting closer to dying, I so desperately wanted to tell him how sorry I was for everything I had done and that I was so sorry for being such a terrible daughter. I waited to long and never got to

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