Throughout life, we come across many people who impact us in a way. The person who left a great impact on me is my dad.

Three months after turning fourteen, my life was great. I was getting settled into a high school; my grades were already starting off greatly and I was making friends. One day as I came home from school, I walked into our living room, finding my mom and dad talking. My parents turned to me and told me to sit down because there was something important they had to tell me. I soon found out that my dad’s liver (肝脏) was failing and he needed an immediate transplant. I was shocked and confused. He was working and never looked sick. My parents told me not to worry because everything would be fine. Four months had passed and my dad still had not received a new liver; he was progressively getting worse. His body seemed to be getting weaker, but he constantly said he was fine.

It was getting hard for my family and me. My dad had to quit his job leaving my mom to be the only provider. I had to take on the responsibility of cleaning the house, cooking meals and checking on my dad while my mom was at work. I had to cut back on hanging with my friends because my dad was beginning to go in and out of the hospital. My focus for school was starting to slip. So were my grades. Two nights before my school spring break, my mom received a call from the hospital that my dad had been in a car accident and that he was in hospital. Surprisingly, my dad hadn’t received a scratch on him. Then next night my mom received a call from the doctor stating that there was a liver that matched my dad’s body and that he needed to get to the hospital immediately.

My mom and I rushed to the hospital and my dad was brought into surgery. We were waiting anxiously outside. After what seemed to be a long time, his doctor came out and informed us that the surgery was successful, but my daddy couldn’t leave the hospital for at least a month. During my daddy stay in the hospital and his adapting to his new liver, my father still tried to comfort us, saying that everything would be OK.

Having to take on so many responsibility at home and constantly worrying about my daddy have helped shape me into the person I am today. I become more responsible for my family and even for everything. Seeing my daddy remain positive and strong throughout his journey has taught me not to take my life for granted, but still positive about life. Also, having seen my dad in hospital for months has inspired me to go into the medical field as a doctor. Thus, I can do everything in my power to help those in need.

power     immediately     greater     responsible     positive month     hospital     comfort     doctor     remain
My life was __________
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Three __________ after 14, Dad needed an __________ liver transplant.
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I took on the __________. Seeing my dad __________ positive Seeing Dad in __________ for months Dad tried to __________ us.		I work as a __________. I am __________. I do everything __________ to help those in need.

In my 30s, I had two kids, a career, a husband and no time for anything else. Then my stepfather called to say he had cancer. Stage four. The words that were circling in my mind wouldn’t form a sentence. Finally, I said, “I’m sorry. I love you. I will support you as best I can…”

It felt as though everything had changed. I needed some control, so I made a list：

1. Find chemo-friendly foods

2. Make soup and freezer meals

3. Find babysitter for hospital visits

4. Start guitar lessons

I know, the last item seems strange, but in that moment, my soul reached through my body and wrote the words, “start guitar lessons”.

My stepfather played the guitar his entire life. It was his way to relax. After work he would sit on the couch, pick up his guitar and let the stress of the day fade away. He wasn’t a performer but he did perform once, for me, as a gift at my wedding.

I rented a guitar and started taking lessons. When my stepfather was allowed to leave the hospital, I brought my guitar to his house. As he lay in bed, I’d show him what I’d learned and play bad versions of classic rock songs. Even though I sounded rough, he tapped his feet and listened enthusiastically. Sometimes, I would “conveniently” leave my guitar at home in the hopes of being able to play his Martin guitar. It sounded rich and soulful compared to my rental instrument.

Five months after his diagnosis, he died. He left me the Martin guitar. I would always pick up the guitar and cry. If only I had started earlier. If only we had longer to play music together. If only... Then, one day, realized that our connection was still alive. When I pull out that Martin, I know I’m not alone.

I recently had dinner with someone who told me that one of his best friends had been killed in a private plane crash, and something happened at the memorial service that he'll never forget. He shared the story with me.

At the memorial service, his friend's wife walked to the platform to speak to the gathering. She said a friend had asked her the best memory she had of their life together. At the moment, she had been too sad to answer, but she had thought about it since and wanted to answer the question.

They were in their late forties when he died, and she began talking about a time in their life almost twenty years earlier. She had quit her job to obtain her master's degree, and her husband never hesitated in his support.

He held down his own job and also did the cooking, cleaning, and other housework while she studied for her degree.

One time they both stayed up all night. She was finishing her paper, and he was preparing for an important business meeting. That morning, she walked out of her study, leaned against the door by the stairs, looked at her husband downstairs and just thought about how much she loved him. She knew how important this meeting was to his future, and she was feeling guilty that she didn't even have time to make his breakfast. He took his briefcase and hurried out. She heard the garage door open and close, but much to her surprise, she heard it open again about thirty seconds later. From above, she watched her husband dash into the house and walk over to the forgotten coffee table. Marking the surface of it with his finger through the dust with the words "I love you", then he raced back to his car.

The new widow then looked out at her audience and said, "John and I had a wonderful life together. We have been around the world several times. We've had everything money can buy. . . but nothing comes close to that moment."

Hearing this, I was deeply moved. "Love makes life worthwhile. "