From a very young age, I realized that my dad was not completely my dad. His olive complexion, thick accent, and the fact that he showed up when I was around three years old were dead giveaways. This did not change my devotion of love for him, and I was not curious about any other father figure or the history of my birth until my grandmother showed me a picture of my ‘biological father’ and I became instantly curious. I was around ten years old. After that day, I was extremely curious and longed to meet my biological father. I wasn’t missing anything, but still felt like I was missing an experience if I went without meeting him for the rest of my life. My mother finally agreed to let me try to contact my biological father when I was eleven. She warned me that he had plenty of opportunity over the years to meet or have a relationship with me, and each time had passed. I contacted him and after a few months was finally able to meet him and my two other sisters. The next few years were a mixture of positive and negative experiences. He seemed to care about me, and I loved having more family to meet and have …show more content…
For a few months, everything was fine. I was a relatively normal sixteen year old, living in a small town, sometimes making good decisions and occasionally making poor decisions. One night, I decided that I would sneak out and go to the graduation party out of town for the seniors that had just graduated. As small town parties go, I ended up drinking a bit and kissed a boy that was nineteen. I stayed over at a friends house and woke up to the banging on the door of the house I was staying at, and could hear my biological father and another friends parents’ yelling for us. We got up, grabbed our stuff, and stumbled out of the other friends’ house to meet the shame and disappointment of our parents, and to face the
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
The people who I look up to is my mom and my dad. Ever since I was born, they helped me with my problem that I have. Every day after school my mom would help me with my homework, because most of the time I don’t understand my assignment, that she knew how to do some math work, because I would forget how to answer my math, while my dad is at work. On his days off me and my dad would sometimes go fishing in the river or a lake, because he would like to spend time with. Other times we would go hunting for deer or bird, because it would be boring if we didn’t do
When my dad and mom met, my mom was only 19 and already had my sister Melody at 17. My dad fell in love with Melody and my mom. He liked my mom so much he lied about his age, he was only 17, but he told her he was 18. About a year later of them dating, my mom got pregnant with me. At that point my parents were gang bangers and did not have jobs. They were barely surviving. Not until about when my mom was 8 months pregnant with me, then my dad realized he was about to be a dad. His eyes opened up because he realized I was going to be his first child. He knew that he was a loser, with no job so he decided to get off his butt and work. Since he had been in jail many, many times, he could not get a job, so he joined the army.
Father, computer server engineer, alcoholic, and felon. My dad, Jason Wayne DeHate, has influenced my life, not only genetically, but he has also improved my character and creativity throughout the years. Beginning at age two, I was cultured with profanity spit from rappers such as Eminem. While my mother was at work we had multiple videotaped “jam sessions” and coloring time that allowed for the foundation of friendship we have today. The jam sessions consisting of me mumbling and stumbling in front of the television, as he was “raising the roof” from his lazyboy. Since then, he has taught me how to rollerblade, change wiper blades, and play my favorite sport, tennis. Along with influencing my leisure activities and the music I enjoy, his prominent personality allows me to grow as a person. Being the only male figure in my immediate family, I
Months later, I woke up and walked down stairs to make my oats. I walked downstairs and was looking for my Father. I looked everywhere in the house before I noticed he was no-where to be found. Then I walked into the living room and saw my Mother. She was hysterical. Tears were running down her cheek like the Mississippi flowed into the Gulf of Mexico.
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...
When I was 8 my dad went to prison. He had a feeling his time was coming and spent as much time with me as he could before he was taken away. He bought me a silver box chain necklace with a cross before he left and I still keep it hanging from the wall.
Growing up, my father’s absence played a major factor in my stride for success. His absence was the scapegoat for why I always felt like I may not be good enough – or why I’d be looked at as an outcast. I’ve always made it my first priority to overcome his negligence by attempting to do my best in school – earning good grades, joining school clubs, giving back to the community. However, never did I receive the recognition I’ve always dreamed of and never was I satisfied with my outcome, but never did I think that I would find through the one who seized it all.
My As the years have passed, I do believe my father’s death had a profound impact on my emotional and social development, especially during my adolescent stage. It was during the adolescent stage of my life where my personality traits of shyness, introversion, and self-esteem began to manifest. I did not have a secure attachment to my father. My relationship with my mother felt more like I was attempting to protect her from my father. During my adolescent years we were not
I was fourteen years old when my life suddenly took a turn for the worse and I felt that everything I worked so hard for unexpectedly vanished. I had to become an adult at the tender age of fourteen. My mother divorced my biological father when I was two years old, so I never had a father. A young child growing up without a father is tough. I often was confused and wondered why I had to bring my grandfather to the father/daughter dance. There was an occurrence of immoral behavior that happened in my household. These depraved occurrences were often neglected. The first incident was at the beach, then my little sisters’ birthday party, and all the other times were overlooked.
In writing about an important person in my life, there are a number of people that I could discuss. But, I feel that the person who is very special to me and one who has been the most influential, is my dad.
One person that I care for very deeply is my dad. He is The reasons he means so much to me is because he helps me whenever I need help, plays sports with me, and he is just like one of my friends.
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 father had been divorced when he met my mother at their workplace. He is 20 years older than my mother, which is a rare occurrence in families today. He also had two adopted children, though they lived with their mother. After they got married my parents had our three-bedroom, one-bathroom (later two-bath) ranch home built. In 1982 they decided to adopt a baby and in 1984 they got me.
I remember it as it were yesterday, the morning of October 31 1986, I heard my dad’s voice early in the morning; “Mike, get up! Your grandpa died!”