Yellow sweater
A third person perspective about the day my life did a 180 the moment that I found out my father had died.
By Kylee Haueter | Journalist
The morning started off normally. Kylee didn’t even have a slight nagging feeling that something was off. She had just woken up and was getting ready to go out for brunch with her grandparents. As she always did, she had trouble picking out what she wanted to wear. She went through four different tops before she settled on her favorite pastel yellow sweater that had been with her through so much.
She walked out of her bedroom and exited the photo lined, short hallway that led to the family room, where her grandpa was sitting and browsing the internet. This was unusual, as usually he would be upstairs getting ready to go. As soon as he heard Kylee enter the room, he turned around and she immediately knew something was off. His normally warm, soft brown eyes were wrinkled with concern as he turned to fully face her.
“Kylee, I have something to tell you about your father.”
A million thoughts flickered through her mind, but only one seemed the most likely.
“He’s in jail again, isn’t he? What did he do this time?”
Kylee and her father had a rough relationship. She had lived through 15 years of him breaking her heart and her forgiving him and giving him another chance. But, despite all that, she still loved him. After all, he was her dad.
“No, Kylee. He passed away this morning.”
She crumpled. She had tunnel vision. She couldn’t breathe.
She didn’t even hear herself ask, “How?”.
She didn’t even hear the answer.
Her family didn’t go to brunch that morning. Kylee retreated to my room and called her best friend, who immediately came over to her house and decided to take her on a shopping trip.
Before we left, she ripped off her favorite yellow sweater and threw it into the back of her closet.
She never touched it again.
