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describe the japanese culture
absent father effects on children lit
japanese culture america
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I was born in Japan on August 29, 1996. My mother and I have the same birth day, blood type, and Japanese zodiac. I have one sister and brother. My sister is 11 years and brother is 8 years older than me. I lived in a big house with a big garden. Actually, my father’s grand mother was not happy about my birth because my mother was not young and already had children. My grand mother is a common traditional person. She decided my siblings’ names and my parents had to obey her. Fortunately, since she had no interest in me, my parents could decide my name and raised me more freely that before. My name means “there is hope.” I am very happy with this name. I can not think about another name or changing my name even if it is not easy pronunciation …show more content…
My family did not tell me what he experienced at that time, but it is true that he had some difficulties and only thing that he enjoyed was to spend time with me. Actually, I have not kept a lot of memories with him in my mind. My family and photos tell me what I did with him. Consequently, I know about the existence of my father, but I could not catch the humanity of my father. At this moment, my life changed significantly. Nevertheless, my mother definitely refused to live with both of my ground parents and decided to raise children herself. Now, I can think how she was strong and defeated plenty of fears. After I started new life at new small apartment, my mother often went to work and I often waited at a kindergarten. I easily adapted the new environment, and the new life which is a life without my father became normal for me. I did not feel something missing because my family gives many helps to me. While it seems that my family faced so unhappiness, my family became more strong and made rigid relationships thanks to that incident. When I entered an elementary school, my …show more content…
My brother often came back late at home because of his school. I was always waiting my family at home alone while watching kids’ TV shows. My mother waked up earlier than me and saw me off at the station every day. She often prepared school lunch box every day and homemade snacks for me at home as well. She is really good at cooking and always cook at home. I went to supermarket with her many times as well. She did not push me to eat my dislike dishes because she believes that the sense of taste would change depending on the age. Actually, she puts my dislike foods sometimes. Although I did not make any bad experience about foods at home, my teacher at school forced to eat my dislike dishes such as cooked fish and I made a trauma. One of things that I really in to is dancing. I started dance when I was four years old. I went to dance studio many times in a week by myself. I do tap, jazz, and ballet. My mother came studio when class finish. Honestly, the teacher of mine was a really strict person and I learned many manners of dance as well as stage from her. Even though her class was tough, I never gave up and followed her. Then, she gave me
I do not have any memories of my own father as a child. I met him when I was about fourteen years old. My mother and grandmother, with the help of my uncles and aunt, raised me. Although I had strong positive male role models in my life, there was always the void of my father that I dealt with on a daily basis. I can remember at a young age, before blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, I would wish that my father would show up to my party. I had elaborate daydreams of him coming back into my life and doing things with me like I saw on television. It never happened. While walking to the train station one evening my uncle casually said to me “there’s your father” as if I saw him on an everyday basis. I didn’t...
It was during this time that I received the news that my papa was diagnosed with brain cancer.. I remember how we had to be strong as a family to help my each other go through a battle. This made my view about my family change. Thanks to this event, I became closer than ever with my family. Three months before he died, he told me he wouldn’t be around much longer. At first I was miserable. I remember just think it was all a dream and I believing that he wouldn 't die. I cried when I learned that he didn’t have long to live. The idea of him dying and what it would actually mean to not have him around. Dearing this time I experienced a few behavior
In consideration of that event, it had always motivated me to become an ER physician, such that no one can go through what my brother had been. As well as watching the TV show “Untold Stories of the ER” and being a member of the program BEWISE (better education for women in science and engineering) it had also influenced my decisions. Another hardship I had face while growing up was when my father cheated on my mother. During that time I was still young, so for me personally it was a difficult time. The very first person who found out about my dad’s affair was me but at that time I blamed myself for that situation, I thought if I never found out about it then everything would go back to normal. However, everything around me seemed to change gradually within time; that’s when I started to have depression, I felt as though I couldn’t tell anyone. At school, I would always have to put up a facade of being happy due to feeling selfish because I knew my friends had it much harder than I do. As a result, I felt isolated from the world. Within time I felt numb to the situation, until one night my mother couldn’t handle it so that's when my mother confronted my father, everything around me
Soon thereafter my parents split up and I could feel their discord; like vibrations of hate upon snapping wires. They seemed to become somehow physically incapable of co-habiting the same spaces. It was as if something physiological that was once inside them was taken from them. Stolen was that strange organ that makes people feel the sincere need to be near someone else. As I grew older I began to observe my mother and her bizarre behaviors. Her anxious isolations and her pill bottle like a Xanax Barbie stuck to her hand. She was always so far away from me. I would sit and wonder where she would go; off to some corner of her mind where up was down and all the wrong in life was right. She was safe behind a closed door; in silence and stillness. I was always alone; and always lonely, with my mother in the next room. She may as well have been a million miles away from me. The older I got the colder the hugs became; it was like she was tired of faking it.
But since I have lived by myself, my impression of my father has gradually changed. My mother often said my father wanted to meet me and he talked about me very often.
Going back forty-five years is not an easy task to complete because I can’t remember some of the finer details of my childhood. I know I was born on a hot August afternoon in Birth Year at Place Of Birth in City ands State. My mother was just twenty-two at the time and was already the mother of two, I was her third child. My father was twenty-one and already a workaholic, I know because my mother would constantly remind me not to be like that. My mother and father were good parents and they tried to give us the best upbringing they could. My father was the kind of person that believed he should provide and protect his family, and he did a very good job of doing that.
I never knew my father. I knew of him course, but whenever I asked my mom about it, the story was condensed to something along the lines of
Now that I am in the counseling program I have become aware of the dysfunctional family that I have grew up in. Growing up I remember my father was never around. There is a memory I will never forget it seems blurry but I remember my parents arguing and becoming angry. I went into a room and when I came out I saw my father’s hand bleeding. My mother was holding a kitchen knife and she had cut his hand. Since my father was hardly around we never had family trips or family time together. He would spend his weekends drinking or going out with his friends. I have another memory that stands out. I remember I was in the back seat of the car and my mom was dropping of my dad somewhere. They were arguing the whole way over there, once we got to the destination my dad got off and walked out. I can imagine this affected my mother as a woman because her needs were not being
In my family, I am the baby girl who is a daddy’s girl. My father keeps me shelter a lot meaning there is a lot of security he always wanted me safe no matter what. When I became a teenager we were very distant I wanted to do my own thing and at the time I did not want to listen to him until a big tragic happen that affected him badly. When I was sixteen years old, my father had this bad feeling that he did not want me going out with my best friend. While he was talking to me I was pseudo listening meaning I was distracted when he was explaining why I should go out and I completely ignore it and I told him everything will be right. The way my father look at me was fear in his eyes that something bad was going to happen. As my friend pick me up my father kissed my forehead and told me “I love you” and I reply back saying “I love you too” I will be safe. As we were leaving we went to her house to visit her family which was a lot of fun then we took off to Webster for some fun with her other friends for her birthday. After all the fun we had it was time for us to go home which my life changed forever. I notice my mother was calling my phone to see where I was and I missed her call. So I unclick my seatbelt to reach my bag to get my cell phone and right then and there my friend and I got hit by an eighteen-wheeler. The car was demolished, I was ejected from the front windshield but backwards. I thought I was dead when I landed in the ditch across the road waiting as I kept blacking in and out. While I was life flight to Memorial Hospital I went straight into a coma and the doctors told my family that I was not going to make it. My father was already losing his mind thinking “I told her not go “ “why her “ “that’s my only baby girl” the emotions were bad to the point they were already planning my funeral. When the doctor came in to tell my parents it was time to unplug me I opened my eyes for the first time and
When I was in the eighth grade (in 2010) we went to a get together at church. We then met uncle Kobus, who became my father’s best friend, as well as his wife and children. We all started to visit one another and my father and uncle Kobus became best friends. The went to Mozambique together on a church retreat, we went to Eco park together, we were all part of a small concert, and they exchanged their mistakes and problems of the past, thus they were like brothers and soon he was like a father to me. We all got together every Saturday until uncle Kobus and his wife, Aunt Wilma, announced that they were getting a divorce. To me it seemed to appear out of nowhere, but my father told me they were having problems for quite a while. This was exactly four weeks before his death on
My mother always cared for me, but back in high school I was blind to it. Being a picky eater was one of my traits and i would typically respond to her saying, “But I don’t like this type of food.” But as soon as I started college, I became aware of how my mother was trying to raise me. As soon as I became aware, then i got interested in her life when she was my age. I indirectly would ask her as the days went by questions beyond the lines of, “ How did you go to school?” And her answer would progress into a valuable life lesson. Since we speak Pashto in our household I will translate it into English. She said, “Me and my friends, who were her neighbors as well, would go to school 2 hours before it would start.” I asked her, “Why so early?” She responded, “It would take us
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
It was around 2:00pm and it was time to open presents. I started with opening friend’s presents then I opened families. I was finally done opening all my presents. I looked around at all the people, who were looking at me and my dad was nowhere to be. That was the only present that I was looking forward too. The party ended and my dad didn’t show up, my little four years old hopes were in the ground, it was like I could feel my heart ripping appart. I looked at my mom and she mouthed I’m sorry, my faced turned rosy red and my eyes filled with tears. From that moment on my life was never the same. It was a dark cloudy day and I was going to see my dad. We were playing the game Sorry and he was winning. I was the yellow player and he was the green player, he was laughing and smiling the whole time. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my Friday afternoon any other way. When the game was over he asked me to clean up the game while he went out to smoke a cig. When he entered the room and the game wasn’t picked up, he went crazy. His eyes seemed to turn a dark almost black color. It was like he was a completely different person when he came back
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
I was born in an ordinary family which my parents made enough money and we were a happy family at the beginning, but everything changed at one day. The relationship between my parents became worse when I was in the middle school. By the way, my elder female cousin’s parent divorce because of