Sometimes, I think back to that fateful afternoon more than two years ago when my mom, our international guest, and I came back from the biennial air show up at Hill Air Force. After we came home, I went upstairs to my computer and logged onto Facebook so, you know, I can tell everyone I’ve just came back from watching airplanes do stunts in the sky.

I never got to doing that. I don’t know why but instead, I went to my step-dad’s Facebook page. The moment I arrived, his wall was filled with “R.I.P”. I was like what the heck happened??? This cannot be true. Is this some kind of joke?

Unfortunately, it was not. I immediately went to Google and search. There was an obituary. “Oh god.” I covered my mouth. I guess I was trying to cry but no tears came out.

My mind was spinning with questions. How come no one told me about this? They knew my mother’s phone number, she hadn’t changed it since we moved to Utah.

I went back to his wall and wrote the message. “What happened???”

A day later, I received a message back from his friend, Mark, in California, someone my step-dad introduced me to not long after I came to the United States.

In the message, Mark told me that this must be shocking for me to hear because my step-dad and I were just beginning to reconcile. He knew that because my step-father told him in a phone call a few months before his death. He told me that if I wish to know what happened, reply back to him.

For a few months, I did not reply. A few days later, my mom and I switched phones because the balance on my phone needed to be used before it expired. I waited eagerly for someone, my step-aunt, step-grandparents, anyone from my step-father’s family to call or possibly leave a message saying, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you months ago.” No one did whatsoever.

I think it was February of 2013 when I messaged him back, saying I would like to know what happened exactly. My hands shook as I typed those words.

It was a few days later when he replied. He told me his liver failed and his sister had been trying to reach out to everyone the weeks prior to his funeral but perhaps she lost my mom’s number. I thanked him in the reply message for telling me what I wanted to know.

Up until now, I often wondered that if I’ve stayed with him in 2007 instead of moving here with my mom, would this happen? If I’ve stayed with him, I would had kept him occupied, like all those years before when my mom was so busy working. I think if I did, he might had led a healthy life instead of drinking and smoking that led to his early grave.