Friday, May 22, 2009

May 22, 1992 is a day that I will never forget...

What I am about to share with you is something that is very personal and deeply touches my heart.

Since I was an infant I was raised by my grandparents. At the time I thought they were my real parents, until years later I found out who my real parents were at the age of 20. It hurt me very much finding out the real truth. I know why they kept it from me and it was to protect me. They loved me very much and wanted to give me the best of life. They were great parents to me.

On May 22, 1992 my life changed forever. My father(grandfather) Albert Vincent Foust died in a comma. I remember it so clearly as I was in my talent show for St. Andrews Catholic School. I was singing the song "here we are" by Gloria Estefan. After my performance, they called Liz Frost over the PA. I said to my self who is Liz Frost. I realized they were talking about Liz Foust. Yes my nickname was Liz. I then saw my family and they told me my dad went to the hospital. I started crying and having a panic attack. I then saw him in the hospital in the intensive care unit. He was lying there in a coma. His eyes were moving side by side. I had no idea what was going on. i went up to him and gave him a huge hug. I told him he was a fighter and he will be okay. He always told me to be a fighter and never give up. he was my inspiration in life. I can't tell you how deep this sets a pain in my heart. It is something that I rarely bring out and talk about as it hurts me so much. I felt my dad was going to be okay and that I was going to see him again. I left with my family and didn't go back to the talent show. We went home and then the phone rang.....My grandmother started screaming "no" over and over again. I didn't understand. She said my dad passed on. I couldn't believe. I would not believe. I kept telling myself he is alive. He isn't dead. He can't die, he is a fighter and always makes it. We got to the intensive care unit and the door opened as someone was coming out. I took a quick peak and I saw his room and I saw the machine they use to bring them back to life sitting right beside his bed. I was told to stay outside but I ran into the room and again immediately hugged my father as he lay there. I started shaking him saying over and over again "daddy, daddy, daddy" This couldn't be happening to me. What am I going to to do? I was devastated. A part of me died with him. The biggest thing that hurt me the most is that I never told him I love you. I didn't know he was going to die. I remember saying that I wish they would take my life and not his. I would have donated my heart to save his life. I would have done anything just to have him here alive. I know he is in a better place. He is among the angels. I wonder what would have changed my life if he was here to influence me. I always wanted him to be very proud of me. I miss him so much. Even to this day its still hard for me to deal with.

I think is very important to tell your family, loved ones and friends how much they mean to you. Them them how thankful you are for them and the little things they do for you. Its so nice to let the other person know you love them and are thankful for having them in your life.