College Essay

When I walked through ICU, the first thing I noticed was the muffled noise around me. All I wanted to do was find my dad. Room four, for his four kids, I kept telling myself as I scrambled to keep it together. I remember the occasion quite vividly, not that much time has passed since then. I was sitting at home watching the television, expecting everything to be normal. I soon discovered that nothing would ever be the same again.

                As we slowly inched into the Intensive Care Unit, a staggering sight met my eyes. There, lying face-up on a hospital bed was my father, ashen-faced and struggling. His body was completely attached to machines, and his sickening figure appeared debilitated. He was unconscious, gasping for air, it was such a disturbing site that I nearly shivered. Only then did I fully understand what it meant for my dad to be close to death. At seventeen years old, I confronted the horrors of death right before my eyes, and realized for the first time that my father was fighting to survive. Falling into my hands, tears out the corner of my eyes, as my aunt raised her hands around my shoulders. My family saw my face, an abnormal site of weakness, and I whispered, so low I barely heard it myself, "He will be okay, your dad is strong, he has been fighting brave and hard."

My dad, my father, my blood. The guidance of my love and strength was now battling for his life. After the doctors detected the blood in August 2008, the problem became more and more fatal, and the effects on my family were more and more harsh. A long series of seemingly long nights in the hospital and pain consumed my father's unknowing last few days. My mother, now the other absentee at home and breadwinner, spent her time and energy, not to mention large amounts of love and patience, fiercely battling with my father's illness. Meanwhile, I began to leave my life behind, the bad parts anyway, thinking everything was going to be okay.

Leaving that day in the hospital was one of the hardest things I think I will ever have to do. I had a feeling that could be the last day I saw my dad alive. While in that small, deafening room, I tried to tell myself that, "He will make it; he is the strongest man you know." Throughout the entire endless hour my family was there, my mother tried to get us to speak to our father, my father. Trying to work up the courage to talk to an evidently lifeless body was crucial and had to be done. It was quite graceless at first, but once I started talking to him, I realized it is my one and only dad and then it came so effortless. I told him I loved him and I always will and kissed him on the forehead one last time. Later that evening, beyond belief, my father passed away painlessly.

Now and forever growing up without a father figure at my side, I feel so distanced from my classmates and friends. Even before this, I have noticed that most other kids communicated and excelled with ease. I, by contrast, was quiet, timid, and introverted, afraid at both home and at school. My depreciated self-esteem affected my performance in school, more so after my father's passing. Swallowing in self-doubt and discouragement, I lost the confidence to excel. In a vicious spiral, each bad grade would not only further undermine my confidence, but also make me feel as if I had failed my father, who cared so much about academics when he was healthy. I was always delighted of every report card I showed him, proving to him I was worth being proud of.

One day, I decided finally to change my life. Listening to my thoughts about my father, when he was alive helped me. I recalled my reasoning as to why I do the things I do. I finally realized that the example of how to improve my life had been in front of me the entire time. I had been trying to prove to myself and to the people around me that I am the best person I can be. I always told myself that I wanted to go on and succeed in life far beyond what my parents ever did with their lives. By fighting it and enduring the suffering to live as long as he did with his family, he had taught me in the clearest possible way that I should never give up, that I could exceed any obstacle, and that I could build a happy life for myself. I made up my mind. I would face the world "brave and hard," and I would cast off the anxiety which had so shackled my personality. I would work to improve my grades and would shine as a student, friend, and overall person. No more self-doubt. No more fear. No more shame. Most importantly, no more giving up.

More than any other milestone I have reached, I am most proud of my success in overcoming my life's hurdle in being the best I can be. With the strength my dad taught me to apply to life, I have pushed myself forward, insistently practicing despite the increasing demands of my high school curriculum. I'm now involved in my high school's extra curricular activities more than I ever had been. About to conclude my senior year, I'm in Peer Mediation, Technology Club, Color Guard, and Yearbook. I also have a job with the school, as a peer leader, which allows me to go around to local middle schools and speak out about tobacco use and the effects of secondhand smoke. I now feel at ease amongst my classmates and friends, and feel as though I'm ready to move on and conquer the world of college and whatever comes my way.

Despite my lower grades starting off my senior year of high school, I have been working diligently and I have been improving all my grades. Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to go to Bridgewater State College. To me, it seemed like the ideal school in my eyes. Its location, cost, majors, diversity, and opportunities seem so endless. Although I am unaware of what I want to major in, Bridgewater gives me many options that it will not be too hard for me to pick one. With my continued success in school, I feel that I will, with no doubt in my mind, make a notable addition to your school.

I am proud of the changes I have made in my life, and I owe all my strength to my father. My dad has been at my side every step of the way. Even as an angel looking over me, his struggle taught me to face adversity and to conquer it, no matter the nature of the challenge. His battle became a model for my own struggle to improve myself. Even today, I continue to fight, struggling with high school, college work and applications. Despite the challenge, I continue unshaken, knowing that the truest test of my ability is my determination to live on bravely like my father and to overcome the hardships of life. I can never thank my dad enough for what he has given me. He has become my role model, and I hope that one day, many years from now, when we meet again, he will say to me, "I'm proud of you, you have been fighting brave and hard.”