“This is it!” I shuffle through all the letters in the mail and grasp the one that reads: “Auburn Journal”. “This letter will define my future!” I quickly tear open the envelope and unfold the letter. “I did it. I got the job!” I scream out loud. I’m overwhelmed with joy when I see one missed call from my mom on my phone. I pick up the phone to return her call.  Memories
“Hello?” she says.
  “Mom, you’ll never believe it, I got the job! I’m going to work for Auburn Journal!” I shout excitedly.
  “Are you serious? That is absolutely amazing honey! I’m so proud of you, can’t wait to tell your father. Speaking of your father, I need to break some harsh news,” my mom nervously trembles on.
“You were quite little when you’re father’s mother died, weren’t you? And I don’t know if you remember what she passed away from, but she had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.” she says.
“ALS, right?” I say. I’m starting to become very anxious because my mom sounds like she might burst out in tears.
“Abigail, you’re father has ALS.” she blurts out. I haven't even had time to comprehend what my mother just said. I am in complete shock.
“What?” is all I can manage to choke out.
“I know it's going to take a bit of getting used too, but you will have to adapt to this situation. We don’t know how long your father has to live………”

After this conversation, all the excitement that had been building up inside me withers away. I immediately begin packing.  I will have to leave my comfy,little apartment in New York and head home I know I have to be with my father.

“I’m home!!” I shout throughout my creaky house, searching for someone. As soon as I step into the front door, it feels like I have gone back in time. The same feeling of warmth and happiness fills my heart, I wonder how long it will stay like that. I walk over the deep blue rug into the living room. I sit on bright yellow couches, and look out into the backyard. I feels good to be home, I say to myself.  
“Hey! You’re home” my mom says as she sees me walking in the kitchen.
The only question I ask after that, the one that I have been thinking of the whole plane ride home, is “How’s dad.” I blurt out the question too fast, but at least I managed to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. I don’t know how I will be able to walk up those stairs and greet my father. I don’t think I’m strong enough, but I have to be. Instead of a formal greeting, I decide to take a different approach.
“Hey dad do you want to play a quick game of basketball.” I shout up the stairs.
When I hear no response, I scream again “Bet you can’t beat me”.
  At that moment I see a head pop out from the door and hear my dad say, “I doubt it.” At the top of the stairs stands a man that I share so much with. Our dark curly locks and our bright green eyes. There is not a doubt that we aren’t related. As he slowly walks down the stairs his eyes sparkle with that competitive look I always used to see when we played basketball together. Basketball was that one thing that always connected me to my dad. When we finally start a game, I begin to lose myself as I always do when I’m playing. I’m in a trance of pure happiness doing what I love with who I love. Suddenly my trance is broken and I see my dad lying on the hard rocky driveway.
“Dad!” I scream so loud that people in Iceland can probably hear me. “I’m fine!” he abruptly shouts.
“It’s okay dad we don’t have to play we should go inside and play a boardgame,” I gulp out, holding back the tears in my eyes.

Late one night I’m comfortably sitting in my bed. The past few weeks it’s been hard for me to think of any ideas on what to write, since I’ve been attending to my dad. For some odd reason tonight has been different. Many ideas are entering my mind and I’m excited to begin writing them down, when I hear a loud crash. I spring out of bed like a bouncy ball hitting the wall. I am almost too frightened to open the door and see the terror that lies behind it. Ever since my dad was diagnosed, I’ve been living my life in fear. I never know what to expect from one moment to the next. ALS is not only killing my father, but it’s taking me down too. I open the door and run down the hallway when I see my weak father lying at the end of the steps. I quickly rush down the stairs, and bring my father to an upright position. “Dad, it’s okay, it will all be okay.” And that was the first time I had ever lied to my father. The rest of the night was all a blur to me. I can barely remember it the next morning when I wake up in a stiff position after spending the night in a dreadful hospital chair. I look across the room and see my weak father peacefully lying in the hospital bed. I know this place will soon become his second home.

Over the next few weeks, I watch as my father grows weaker and weaker. I realize that I can't stay with my father forever. I will eventually have to start my life up again and go back to my little apartment in New York. The past few weeks have been hard on me, but harder on my father.

The next day we head out to buy a wheelchair for my dad.
“Hello Mr. Bennett, we have many options for your wheelchair.” the sales lady joyful says.
“I hope that you are able to find one that suits you and your critical condition.” she says again. My mind is completely lost and I feel like I’m in a dream. I pray that I will soon wake up in my old apartment. I pray that this moment is not happening, that my dad is not in a critical situation where he could die at any minute. I turn around and walk out. I am not yet strong enough to see my father being torn away from wonderful life into a life of stiffness.

One morning I wake up early and make myself a cup of coffee. I go and sit on our porch. My father comes and knocks on the door. I get up and help him down the ramp.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“It's going” my father responds
“Do you remember when you were little what I said to you every single night before bed,” he says again.
“No” I say even though I actually know, I just want to hear the sound of his voice sharing a cherished childhood memory.
“Every night after you were soundly tucked in bed you would tell me your dreams. The tasks that you wanted to accomplish. You were so passionate about what you wanted to do in life that it amazed me every night. You still amaze me every time I see you, Abigail. What you've made of your life impresses me so much. But anyways, when you asked me when you should start accomplishing your dreams, I would tell you “If not know, when?”
The course of the next few years was hard. I watched my father fight a battle I knew he wouldn't win.

As I walk up the altar steps, I think back to the phone call when my mom told me my dad had ALS. I realized that back then I had thought my life was ending, if I only knew it was just beginning.

“Hello, dear family and friends. Right now my father is in a better place. He is resting in peace. Kevin Bennett was a man full of happiness. Even in his weakest moments, his love never ended. At this point, tears are pouring out of my eyes and not stopping. “Dad, I can still remember the sound of your last breath and the feeling of your mighty hand entangled in mine. Your faint smile will stay on of my mind and I will carry your voice throughout my life. Thank you dad for teaching me to cherish and grasp each moment of my short life. Thank you walking beside me on a part of my journey for when I reach my destination, my eyes will meet yours.”