My Father's Love: My Parents And The Childhood Dream

Throughout my life, I would hear constant stories about my parents and their devoted faith to each other. Their love, support, and encouragement created the most ideal scene for my siblings and me to live the childhood dream. Conflictingly, in the United States, we suffer from a 50% divorce rate that is higher than most countries around the world. My parents were born and raised in Laredo, TX, and joined the middle class of America. My mother is a middle school reading teacher and my father worked as an oil field worker after the divorce. He drove 18-wheelers day and night across the south Texas area and transported oil and various objects to different companies. The night of December 11, 2014, my father was driving an 18-wheeler, which contained

Two years before, my life was going a slow downhill spiral and my father’s death pushed it off the edge. I could see and feel my parents’ marriage failing beneath me, pulling me down into a pit of despair. Their exchange of dissatisfied looks and constant fighting struck me like a dagger. Weeks and months passed until the day I dreaded arrived. “We have to talk about something very important,” my mother whispered with her comforting voice, but there were tears in her eyes, and I knew what was to come. The news was heart-breaking and disappointing to my two brothers and I, I had always took pride in the fact that my parents’ marriage had withstood the 50% divorce rate in America. We continued to live in our home with our mother, but we would often visit my father, because of the strong untarnished bond between my father and his children. A year after the divorce, he decided to get a new job as an oil field worker, after countless attempts to make him reconsider the tiresome, dangerous, and over-working job, his stubbornness and will to succeed encouraged him to stay. One night