They say that parents are like Angels sent by God to guide and give you the love that God physically wants to show to you. If this is so then why did I get two but was only loved by one. I had them, but this is life...............
             Standing by the cracked wooden door, not knowing what was going on, I looked at the man who had lived with me since I can remember, peacefully sleeping for everyone. Thick black hair, like mine, dark brown eyes, like mine, nose short and round, like mine. I saw me. Like doctors surrounding a patient they stood around the bed, expecting him, wanting him to wake up, with tears running down their tired, sad faces. What I had come to know as my mother was kneeling down, her hair surrounding her face like weeds, crying the loudest but no one seemed to hear her. I became scared and felt weak, helpless to do anything. My eyes became watery, so I let them become full and burst. My grandma led me away form the room, I looked back, there sitting still like a still picture they stood. Unconscious of the situation, I did what was normal for a 4 year old, I went to the living room and began to color my favorite coloring.
             Never had I seen a dead person, I didn't even know what was death. Didn't know about heaven, hell or the place they called "the cemetery." "Flowers for the dead" they said, "flowers for the dead", "flowers for the dead."
             Confused but amused by the situation, crying because some guy was sleeping on his bed . Shake him and wake him up. "I sleep but I wake up in the morning, why cant he?"
             It was a Sunday, the church bells rang loudly, a crowd walked to the place where beautifully made stones stood up from the ground. Everyone was silent as they walked trough the gravel road. A box made of old, dry,simple wood held the sleeping man. We entered the gate of the cemetery and headed in, quietly everybody at the same time. The father from ...