Every guy dreams about one day being just like his dad. He can only dream of the
Day when he looks at his father and sees an exact copy of himself. Well that's how it was for me ever since I was little and every once in a while I could just picture being just like my dad when I grow up. He is the most responsible, trustworthy, honest, and hardworking person I have ever met. He does have a very short temper and has absolutely no patience but nobody is perfect. I don't think I could ask for a better father.
Then a terrible thing happened to me about a month after my 15th birthday, my mom told me that my dad isn't my real father. It happened so unexpectedly and I couldn't really believe right away. My mom took me to therapist the day she told me. At first I didn't know what to think when I found myself in a very cold, small room with a strange woman waiting for us. I was sitting in a chair right next to my mother looking at the women. I was very confused when the women started asking me an abundance of random questions such as what kind of music I listened to, if I had a ...
Many other children have had a similar experience to mine. I was forced to believe all of these things that I did would affect me somehow after I died. It also goes to the childhood of our species. Back then, people believed if they pleased the gods by doing a rain dance, the gods would let it rain. When in reality and proven by science, water evaporated and then condensed to form rain. The earlier Catholic Church believed that the Earth was in the center of the Universe, the Ptolemaic model. Everything, including the Sun, revolved around us, however science has also disproved this. The heliocentric model was formed, where we revolve around the
I was raised by my mother and grandmother. They kept my head leveled and taught me that working hard leads to success. I loved them, and they were my role models. I grew up in a middle class family with strong women. I learned independence, and the strong will to never give up. It was the summer of 2005 when my mother re-married, and I was in the eighth grade. My mother was happy because she found the conclusion to her life: a husband. I was ecstatic because I finally had a daddy! My hopes, wishes, and dreams had come true. I felt that God answered my prayers. I loved having a father figure, although I had certain doubts. My uncertainty came from the way he looked at me. He looked at me the way men crave women. However, I concealed my unclear feelings because I did not want to ruin the current circumstances. Unfortunately, all of my suspicions were true.
He is the type of person that makes me very proud to say that he is my father, and the type of father that I am most fortunate to have. My father and I have always been very close. He is both loving and caring and the type of person that always puts his family first.
The summer of 2004 I had just turned 13 years old. I was like any other kid my age, always running around with my friends, eating junk, and of course being a kid. I had hit puberty four years earlier at the age of nine. I knew that I would start growing breasts and developing into a young woman. My mom was taking care of my three brothers and I in Minneapolis Minnesota. My father was in Jail at that time and was not involved in our lives that much, he was a recovering drug and alcoholic. My mom married a man we shall call Kevin, Kevin was like a father figure and did things for us that our dad was not able to do at that time. I’ve always had a bad feeling about Kevin, in fact when he proposed to my mom I told them I did not want to be in their wedding, I don’t know if it was because he wasn’t my dad or if it was truly because kids can tell when someone has ill intentions. However, my mom loved Kevin and so that meant we had to love Kevin as well for my mom’s happiness, time went by and Kevin grew on my brothers and I, we loved him like a father. I was starting 8th grade that year, which was the same year it was my mom and Kevin’s one-year marriage anniversary. On that day, I was in a garage with people I thought were my friends. What happened in that garage changed my life. I was raped , I constantly said no, I was terrified at what would happen if I told my mom, what would go through her mind, what would happen to me, what would the other kids think if they found out. That day has been hidden inside me for ten years and not a soul has been told. The next day the brother to the rapist was told that I had a train ran on me, and he wanted to have sex with me. He already passed the age of 18. He was a friend so while everyone else wa...
My father was always there for me, whether I wanted him to be or not. Most of the time, as an adolescent trying to claim my independence, I saw this as a problem. Looking back I now realize it was a problem every child needs, having a loving father. As hard as I tried to fight it, my dad instilled in me the good values and work ethic to be an honest and responsible member of society. He taught me how to be a good husband. He taught me how to be a good father. He taught me how to be a man. It has been 18 years since my father’s death, and I am still learning from the memories I have of him.
My dad is always happy to help. He always has time to assist me with whatever I need. Sometimes when I don't comprehend a certain thing on my homework, he works through the problem with me until I fully understand how to solve it myself. He is very inquisitive and is always showing me diverse ways to solve my problems If I have to do chores around the house, he is always the first one I call. He and I work together as a team and finish them. Also, I speak two languages, so it is a little hard when I am talking to my parents to not get the two mixed up. Luckily, my dad helps me by correcting me if I mispronounce a word or phrase and reminds every time I make that same mistake so it sticks in my head forever. That way when I'm talking to my grandparents or other family members, I know how to speak properly.
I would build him a wood shed that would help him with his continuing sense of responsibility to cut and store firewood. In 'true-blue ' father and son style, our joint work would create a bond that opened a moment of reflection that I could treasure forever. Well, we did occasionally work together, but dad 's attention and physical ability wavered, and after a few minutes I would find him returning to his sun couch or sitting inside staring into space. Maybe there were moments where I felt a subtle bond, but I soon realized that my expectations were unrealistic.
It was every parent’s worst nightmare. That feeling of uneasiness, not knowing if you’ll ever know the truth, fled the minds of my parents.
It started when I was a little girl, I think I was about five years old. I grew up in a one parent household, with just my mom. I had three other siblings, two brothers and a sister. My mom was the sole provider of the family. Everything started getting hard for her as we grew. I got curious and asked my mom a question I never asked before. "Mom where is my dad and why isn 't he here to help you take care of us." " Mom said, he was killed when you were a baby." So I never spoke of it again until I had turned about fifteen years of age. I still was curious about what had happened to my father. I started having dreams of my father being around, a man whom i had never seen or meet before. He was just an illusion that I had made up inside my
My dad has never been the easiest man to impress but my brother Nick could always do it. When Nick would play the drums, my father’s eyes would sparkle and light up like fireworks on the fourth of July. I always wished my father would look at me like that but it was only my brother who could generate that look of pride. My father is an amazing drummer, so watching his only son take after him must have been great. My brother and my dad are the two people I adore and respect the most in this world and all I wanted to do was be like then and make them proud.
The moment we stepped foot into the hospital, I could hear my aunt telling my mother that “he is in a better place now”. At that moment, something had already told me that my dad was deceased; it was like I could feel it or something. I felt the chills that all of a sudden came on my arms. As my mother and grandmother were both holding my hand, they took me into this small room. The walls were white, and it had a table with four tissue boxes sitting on the top. My other grandmother was there, and so were my two aunts, my uncles, and
Sometimes it just takes one event to forever change your outlook on life. One such event happened to me when I was only 5 years old. My day started out as most 5yr olds growing up in the south in the late 60’s, only I was a bit different because unlike my neighborhood friends, my mom was 55yrs old. My mother gave birth to me when she was 50 years old and I was the youngest of 8 children, most of which were grown with children of their own when I came along. My mother spoiled me rotten, she was very attentive to my every demand. And I mostly demanded cereal, Rice Krispies only! My mother wasn’t very playful with me (what 55yr old would be?) but I felt her love. She would not let me out of her sight, she was always there, until one day she wasn’t. I woke up that morning in my mother’s bed as I often did, and I shook her to wake her up as I always did, only this time the shaking wasn’t working. I remember yelling for my siblings to come wake mommy up, I needed my Rice Krispies! Only instead of waking her up they began yelling and screaming and calling people on the phone. What’s going on? It’s not that serious, just get mommy up! I saw men in white shirts running into the house and then leaving with my mother on a stretcher. I didn’t
Antonio knows that not finishing school was a large barrier for him thus he does not want his children to suffer the way he did by having numerous, low paying jobs he disliked. Isabella believed that her father’s reason for his parental style was, “because that was how he was raised and he wanted me to follow in his positive footsteps.” However, Isabella points out that she feels like her father’s parenting style gets in the way of her goals when he attempts to imply his cultural believes. Isabella explains, “My dad would not allow me to take extra classes after school or join sports, so when it came time to apply to colleges I was unable to stand out in my application.” She explains it is because of Antonio’s lack of schooling which prohibits
I always think to myself, “What would I do if I didn’t have a father like him?” I think about it and then I say, “I would be in the cracks, not doing anything because there is no one here to keep me going and to keep me motivated.” My dad is an amazing cool person to me because he shows me that no matter what struggles he faces in his life or what happens to him, he always gets out of them and he has me and my mom to help him.
I attended the varsity dance competition with my teammates on junior varsity to cheer on my sister and the rest of the upperclassman. After they performed, we went back to the dressing room to hug and congratulate all of the girls on their awesome performance. Little did I know, this would be the last time I ever hugged my sister. I left the competition that afternoon and headed home to a family party. A few hours later, my sister called and said that she was on her way home from the high school and that she would “see us soon”. About twenty minutes later, my worst nightmare came true. My dad received a phone call from a local hospital. I could hear the doctor through the phone say, “Mr. Rudd, your daughter Jacalyn has been in a traumatic car accident and we need you to get to the hospital immediately.” At this moment I had so many thoughts rambling through my head, I did not know what to expect. Growing up, I always thought that I lived the perfect life and I never anticipated anything bad happening. My family and I arrived at the hospital minutes later, and the doctor was waiting for us in the lobby. He urged us to take a seat began by saying, “I am so sorry, but at this time I regret to inform you that Jacalyn has passed away.” My body froze, my hands and feet went numb, and I felt as if I could not breathe. I thought to myself, “There’s no way this can be real, this must be a dream.” I