My childhood did not consist of the stereotypical (not to mention terribly annoying) “picture perfect” family.

We were far from perfect, with a single mother raising four children all huddled under a house that was, and still is, held together by band-aids and a prayer.

Life was, well, hard. My siblings and I had no choice but to grow up faster than most children under 10, especially since our old man clocked out and forgot child support was not optional.

We never experienced the luxuries of toy filled Christmases or the latest toys for that matter, and we learned to accept it and we did. We were humble but contrary to most sappy, “I hated my childhood” stories, my siblings and I were happy because we had several people in our lives that helped our mom raise us, love us and pave the way for our successful futures.

One of those four people was Bob, our mom’s boyfriend of 10 plus years and our stepfather regardless of what anyone said.

So, what does one do when they live three hours away, work three jobs, have a full course load and lose the man that helped raise them to a massive heart attack?

They cry of course.

I am not writing this to beg for pity. I do not need it and I am certainly not doing this for attention, I already get enough of that thanks to my own talents.

I am, however, writing this for two very important reasons.

I know I am not the only one to lose a parent, and I also know that it will not end with my family.

So if a similar situation happens to anyone I know or cross paths with, and I pray it will not, do not hold in the emotions that overcome your body and take over like a crippling virus.

Please, for the sake of your own sanity, do not hold in.

Talk to someone and take time to cope. You will be surprised at how understanding and caring others are.

Also, remember to say “I love you” to your parents or to whoever raised you, loved you and molded you into who you are today because you never want to kick yourself for not saying it when you had the chance.

Going away to college is a fun and liberating time for many students but it is also easy to forget to call home every once in awhile to just say, “Hi, I’m doing fine.”

Please, do not forget to call, because I did and now it is eating me alive.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017 will forever be one of the worst days of my life, but at least now I have another angel looking out for me.

Goodbye, Bob, I love you.

Analicia Haynes is a junior journalism major. She can be reached at 581-2812 or [email protected].