Personal Narrative: My Disconnection With My Father

It was not difficult for me to decide who I have connected with the least over the year; yet it was not a connection that was weak from the start, but one that slowly declined throughout the course of our relationship. The disconnection with my father was not of his own volition, but rather a natural decline due to his situation. My father, John had once been a man I admired, because of his strong dedication to establishing a healthy home for my mother my sister and me. He was once a tall strong man with a slight muscular build, in addition he also cared deeply for our family and would do anything he could to make me and my sister happy. My father would frequently take us on sojourns throughout Virginia and New York that created pleasant memories

I didn’t realize at the time how important this memory would be to me. It is one of the last blissful memories I have with my father. These are some of the most memorable moments I have had with my father, however over the past few years these memories have begun to fade. When my family moved to Arizona our relationship quickly deteriorated. When I turned twelve my father had been diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disorder. At first the disease was unnoticeable, my father still acted as he always did. It was not until my eight grade year that I noticed the effects of the disease, during this time he had begun to carry an oxygen tank everywhere he went. Our relationship was still strong at this point, but during my high school years we started to disconnect. His illness had restricted him quite severely when I began high school. He had lost almost all of his strength to the disease, and as a result he was unable to attend any of my football games. His absence upset me because all of my teammate’s parents attended the game to support them. During high school I was embarrassed of my father, what was once a man I had admired had become someone

His immune system had become extremely weak and therefore hospital visits became common occurrences. During high school I began to stop talking to my father. I avoided him because, ignoring him helped alleviate the emotional pain he was causing me. For the next two years my father would end up in the hospital every Christmas. Christmas had lost its mystical charm of happiness and joy, but instead had become a time for sorrow. The Christmas of my final year of high school would affect my relationship with my father drastically. The night before Christmas I walked out of my room to find a Paramedic performing chest palpitations to try and resuscitate my father, in order to save his life the paramedic intubated him. That night I completely disconnected from my father. I could not deal with the emotional stress he would create for me. After he came back from the hospital I would barely talk to him. I was not able have a conversation with him, because whenever we would talk he would go completely off topic. My father had several drugs prescribed to him which caused him to lose his sense of reality, Because of this it was nearly impossible for us to have a