In the final days of my freshman year, I contemplated taking an online class in French class over the summer, which because of my indecisive nature, I decided to consult my parents on the matter. I had my doubts and wondered if I should take the required french class with the rest of my grade in the fall as well as if I should focus on my father, who was sick at the time. I recall finally working up the courage to ask my dad, which he responded to me saying I should not worry too much about him and go for what I sought to be best for my education. So the next day, I submitted my paperwork and signed up. I entered into a vicious cycle of school work, practice, and visiting my dad in the hospital, which as stressful as it was, I was quite content with the idea of having an A in the class, and thinking it wasn’t all too bad. My dad was getting better, I was passing with flying colors as well as having an enormous amount of time to practice my one true passion, the flute. Which as good as it seemed, the day my dad was going to transfer to another part of the hospital as he was improving, he suddenly passed away. It was devastating because I was very much my father's favorite, but I felt like I had to be the strong one in my family, which didn’t work out well because my siblings all decided to be strong too. I allowed my stubbornness to best me and continue with my daily life, by not informing my teachers nor my friends about what had happened. My dad loved his hometown of Bronx, NY, and wanted to be buried there, though my family and I have resided in Charlotte, NC for 14 years, so we decided to hold two funerals in both his favorite places. Me, being the stubborn person I am, took it upon myself to play my flute for both his funerals as it was something my dad always loved to hear, which in surprise went well for the first funeral in Charlotte. I propelled my hard head into New York and was easy to fool anyone during my first week that I was grieving perfectly fine. It was then I had crashed and burned at his last funeral, where the mix of my adrenaline from performing and my grieving finally hit me, that my life wasn’t all through one pair of glasses that I had so carefully made. My glasses had shattered and so did my grades and my practice. My teacher was called, and she gave me space. I also decided to put my flute in its case for a while. It wasn’t easy teaching myself how to care for my emotions which I spent the majority of watching the Great British Bake Off, which similarly ignited my baking hobby, but I also spent a lot of time with my family which was heated monopoly games at 2 am, but I took it to the heart of who I am and whom I came from. I am still learning to give myself my self and mental care, and I may never fully master it. I took away that if I truly wanted to put my all into whatever it may be, I should take it one step at a time. When it was time, that I felt inexplicably content, I decided to open my flute case and practice.