It was a cold, bitter Christmas Eve night five years ago and my family had just finished opening all of our presents. It was getting late and my dad was getting ready to leave. Even though my parents were divorced, my dad still joined us for Christmas gatherings. I ran up to him and gave him a big hug. As I buried my head in his chest, all I could smell was his Old Spice cologne. If I had known at that very moment that was the last hug I would ever get from my dad, I would have held on for much longer. The very next morning, Christmas Day, at about 5:45 am, my mother received a call from my dad asking her to bring him to the hospital. My sister, Melanie, decided to go with her just to make sure everything was okay. My father passed away in the car with them on the way to the hospital. When my older sister, Christina, received a phone call and dropped to the ground in tears, I knew exactly what had happened. It was such an unexpected heartbreaking experience, especially since it happened on his favorite day of the year. I knew that Christmas for my family was never going to be the same again. Listening to Christmas music, opening presents, and eating my dad's favorite Christmas cookies was going to be extremely difficult for all of us. .
It was exactly one year later after my father had passed away, and we had just finished opening our presents. My mother mentioned that she had one last gift to give to my sisters and I. The four of us looked at each other very confused, wondering what she could possibly give us. She brought out four beautifully wrapped boxes. As we ripped off the wrapping paper, and slowly opened our box, we instantly started to cry as we discovered what was inside. Inside the box was a bear that my mom had made for each of us. She had used three of my dad's favorite shirts that he often wore. Words can't express how happy I was to have something to remember my dad by, something so incredibly comforting and thoughtful.
