As soon as my dad said those words, "killed in a car crash", everything afterwards is only short clips of moments that passed, like pictures on a reel going around, they flash in front of my eyes and then crash together into a million pieces until I close them because I don't want to remember.
After that i forgot about him. I flushed every memory out of my mind because it was too painful to think about, too painful to remember, too heart wrenching and guilt ridden to think that I hadn't paid attention in those last few precious moments I had with him.
But every once in a while, when it comes back to the surface I remember. Sometimes I smile, and sometimes I cry, but I always always say a prayer. I can still see you sitting on the couch next to me, and I can still hear you whispering that I was your favorite, and not to tell anyone. I can still hear you laughing when I asked you about Chi's dreadlocks, and I can still see you arguing about religion with your brothers while we sat and listened even though we didn't understand. And then I start to remember not even talking to you at the wedding, the last time I ever saw you. I remember getting older, forgetting that you were there because I had more "important" things to think about, and I remember that they didn't even matter.
If I knew then what I know now, that seven years later I would still regret not telling you that day that I loved you, that you would always be my favorite, then I would have changed it all. I'm still sorry, and every time I whisper it in my prayers its the most heartfelt sorry I have ever said.
I wish that you could see me now, I know you would be proud. Because its seven years later, and even though I will never know who you would have been, I hope your watching me and who I have become.