March 10th, 2006 a huge part of me died. Jerry Mitchell was one of the most talented transmission mechanics that ever lived, and the only thing he knew better than how to fix cars was how to be a good dad. He had problems just like everyone else that caused him to lose things, but the most signifigant thing he lost was the chance to spend time with his kids. He got to see us every other weekend but that wasnt enough. He tried to make himself feel better by buying us stuff, but since he didnt make much and he drank most of his money, we usually got really nice stuff every once and a while. Like one time he got me a 100 dollar Tommy Hilfiger jacket just cause i noticed that it had a big american flag on the back of it. I guess now that i look back i realize that i took having him there for granted. I guess reality first hit when i was driving him to the doctor to get his perscription then to get it filled. we were on our way to kroger when he made me pull over at a liquor store. He came out with a bottle of wild turkey and when he got in the truck he just looked at me and started crying. I had only seen him cry like one other time. It killed me. Then he told me that he knew he didnt have much time and that i need to be the man now. He said that i have to take care of my sisters and my mom. I was stunned, what do you do in that situation? Then one day i got a call and the inevitable had happened. One of my dads ulsers in his stomech had burst. This had happened before and i thought he would just pull through like he always did, but this time was different. The contents of his stomech flowed out into his body and that just started everything. I spent every moment i could with him at the hospital but he was out of it. He couldnt talk or really acknowledge you being there. Every once and a while you could notice an emotion but not too often. I had never seen my dad like this and i couldnt stand it. He had always told me that if he was on life support and things didnt look good that he didnt want to be kept alive by machines. My sisters and I didnt want him to suffer anymore and we knew that he wanted us to,so we decided to take him off life support. After he had the breathing tube out he held on for a suprisingly long time and it looked like he was doing pretty good but the day after his birthday, march 10th, my sisters and I were at the library getting something to read when we got the call. They said that he was breathing steady, but then just stopped. When we got back to the hospital everyone was crouded around the room and i just glanced into the room. That was all i could handle. All i saw was my father, pale, lifeless, But it wasnt my father. Just the covering that held him in. Although i was happy that he wasnt suffering anymore, i couldnt help but feel that part of me that he occupied in my heart was ripped out of me. Evertyhing i was thinking about fell out of the back of my head. I couldnt even show emotion. The world stopped. At his funeral i told everyone that i was fine, that ill be ok, but i wont be ok. Not untill i get to see him again. When i can hug him, kiss his cheek, then ill be fine. God knew what he was doing the whole time. He knew that if my dad walked out of that hospital, he would be good for a little bit but then he would go right back. His addictions were just that strong. So, untill that day ill be missing you like crazy. I love you dad. See you soon.

R.I.P. Jerry Lee Mitchell

3/9/1959-3/10/2006