When I was 13 on Tuesday, September 3rd my dad left for a business trip to San Francisco. That same morning I went out to the kitchen and found my mom making my siblings lunches like usual. My dad was lounging around talking to my mom and getting ready for his trip. I wish so hard I would've said goodbye that morning but I don't know why I didn't. He came back later that week on the 6th and went to my older brothers football game. They both came home that night happy and excited cause they won the game and Sammy scored a touchdown. I heard them come in the house. And I didn't even bother to get up. I stayed in my room and didn't come out. I never said goodbye. The next morning around 4 or 5ish I heard noise and saw the ambulance lights outside my window. I knew something was wrong. I walked outside my room and all my mom said was "he's gonna be fine." That sentence gave me so much hope. A few hours later my mom called us and told us to go get ready to go see dad at the hospital. As I was getting ready to leave, mom walked in the front door with two of our friends- and no dad. I already knew what she was gonna say. She said they tried to do everything they could. I didn't believe her. What could've happened so fast that he was fine last night and not this morning? Ask me what my biggest regret is for the rest of my life. Take a guess. I wish things weren't this way.