Author's Note: Hello everyone yet again. Who's excited for Elevate? I sure , It's all James POV. Hope you guys like it.
Disclaimer: I do not anything familiar.
Closing my eyes and opening my ears, I heard a familiar song play through the radio in the car.
"I guess I'm learning, only learning the art of letting go . . . "
I've learned to dance without tripping or falling. I've learned to take every step with passion, love and desire. I've learned to sing every note with complete accuracy. I've learned to keep going to reach my dreams. I've learned to perfect my art and to love life. All because of my dad.
My dad wasn't like the other guys' dads. Carlos still has his dad watching him and caring for him. Kendall and Logan's dad both lost their dads in a tragic accident. I . . . I lost my dad not because of something that was caused by nature or destiny. No, I lost him because he left us.
My mom and dad never agreed on many things due to my mom's little issue. She had this tendency of forcing everyone to agree with what she wants. And that was what led to my dad's abandonment.
I knew that my dad was bound to leave us someday and someday bound to leave us forever. But I never thought it would be this soon.
My dad taught me how to ride a bike. He would grab the back of the seat and push me. Then, whenever he would let go, I'd lose my balance and fall. He'd put me back up and wipe the tears off my eyes while lifting up my chin. He'd stare intently in my eyes that looked exactly like his and tell me to keep going. Day by day, he would remove my hands for a longer period of time until I learned to ride on my own.
My dad taught me how to dance and sing. He'd sing out loud in the house while playing the piano. His voice was deep and beautiful. His dance steps perfectly following the rhythm of the music. He claimed that his voice and his dance moves were the reason he got my mom. He'd grab me and let him place my feet in top of his shoes. He'd let me accompany him while he plays the piano. Until, I learned to dance and sing to my own song.
My dad taught me to read, write and count. He'd use different objects like apples or combs to make me count. He'd read me bedtime stories and at times let me read the part of the pigs in the Three Little Pigs or the wolf in The Red Riding Hood. He gave me a notebook where I could practice my ABC's. He'd let me write letters which became words and words became sentences until I learned to write my own stories.
My dad taught me to smile, laugh and believe in luck. He would tickle me on the sides until I cried. He would give me gifts that my mind didn't comprehend when I was young but I loved them so much that I would cry tears of joy. He would crawl on our backyard every morning to give me a four leaf clover that I would put in my front pocket to bring to school until I learned to believe in my own luck and smile and laugh on my own.
My dad taught me to cry when I needed to. He'd hold me tight while I got medicine coming from a syringe and let my tears wet his new shirt. He'd cry when someone in the family dies and I would to. He wasn't ashamed of crying and he told me neither should I. I learned to cry only when it is completely necessary.
My dad taught me to love, to dream, to hope, to keep going and to accept things that happen in life. When I got my first girlfriend, he didn't stop me. Instead, he even gave me advice on how to be a good boyfriend. He never forced me to become a lawyer like him. He'd let my imagination grow wild in thinking of what I wanted to be when I grow up. He'd let me think positive and to look at the future, not in the past. He'd let me join contests to fulfill my dream of being a singer and pat my back proudly whether I won or not. I learned to live without regrets.
Stepping down the car and into the hospital, I walked into the room where my dad stayed. The doctors said that my dad asked them to put him on life support and to only pull the plug after I talked to him. I opened the door and saw him. The same dad that taught me to ride the bike that was life, to dance and sing to the soundtrack of my life, to write my own destiny and count my blessings, to appreciate everything in life, to accept that life is a wheel where sometimes you're at the bottom and to live life to the fullest was lying down on a bed, dying.
"I'm sorry." I said to him.
"Why?" He barely said out loud.
"I shouldn't have let you leave us. I should've fought mom and . . ."
"Hey." He wiped a tear that fell just like when I was small.
"You don't deserve this." I told him.
He coughed and wheezed.
"James, remember when I taught you about life." He said to me.
"There are a lot of things you taught me about life."
"Yes, remember when I taught you about the life cycle?" He looked me in the eye.
Like a stubborn kid I was shaking my head and putting my hands over my ears.
"I'm not yet ready. Don't go yet. Please."
"James, I know you're not. But imagine that this is just another thing that I'm teaching you."
"And what is that?"
"Saying goodbye."
He looked at me as if he was waiting for me to say something and with much hesitation I said the word that I never got used to say.
"Goodbye."
He smiled at me and breathed his last breath. Then, the heart monitor made that monotonous sounding beep and he was taken away.
And with that, I've learned from him that last thing he'll ever teach to me . . .
The art of letting go.
Author's Note: So, how was it? I hope that you liked it. Please review :)