Childhood Memories of Dad

Childhood Memories of Dad

Length: 1251 words (3.6 double-spaced pages)

Rating: Excellent

Open Document

Essay Preview

More ↓
A memento is a reminder of the past, a keepsake. They come in many shapes and sizes. People save objects for many diverse reasons. In my case, I will forever keep and pass on my keepsake to my children because of the many good and bad memories it evokes from my childhood and about my father. It is a lime green 1976 KX250 dirt bike that my father had given to me as a child to restore and was exactly the same as the one he had bought as a teen. It is all black with a lime green gas tank that says Kawasaki and has two large knobby tires. It is one of the first race models that was produced for use on motocross dirt tracks and also the same as the first bike I would ever ride. The bike that would bring my father and I close together, and the bike that would make me love riding off road vehicles forever.

I was only knee-high to a grasshopper when I first felt the wail of a two stroke engine underneath me. The noise that bike made was like a mother’s soft voice to a crying baby. I would usually just be sitting inside my grandparent’s house playing video games when I would here the loud purr of the motorcycle’s engine. I would light up with total excitement and usually run to the door to see if my Dad was going to take me for a ride. Most of the time I would end up in sheer joy, but occasionally, I would just get a feeling of disappointment. It’s the good times that I remember the best. I would put my worst clothes on because I knew I was going to get dirty. Then I would run outside to see my Dad putting his helmet on and revving the lime green bike up, while light blue smoke seeped from the exhaust pipe, which ran underneath the black engine.

After I was done putting on the shiny new helmet and goggles that my Dad had bought me, he would pick me up and place me right in front of him, between him and the gas tank, so I could hold on to the crossbar on the handlebars. Then as he let the aluminum clutch lever out easy and gradually twisted the throttle, we would speed off around the gate and down the dirt road behind the house.

How to Cite this Page

MLA Citation:
"Childhood Memories of Dad." 27 Feb 2020

Need Writing Help?

Get feedback on grammar, clarity, concision and logic instantly.

Check your paper »

Childhood Memories of Dad Essay

- A memento is a reminder of the past, a keepsake. They come in many shapes and sizes. People save objects for many diverse reasons. In my case, I will forever keep and pass on my keepsake to my children because of the many good and bad memories it evokes from my childhood and about my father. It is a lime green 1976 KX250 dirt bike that my father had given to me as a child to restore and was exactly the same as the one he had bought as a teen. It is all black with a lime green gas tank that says Kawasaki and has two large knobby tires....   [tags: Personal Narrative]

Free Essays
1251 words (3.6 pages)

Essay Childhood Memories of Dad

- Cold winters, hot summers, pokey gravel, darkness, inconvenient tools and deterioration of the old hotrods. All of this came to an abrupt hault when a father and son's dream became a reality. A place of our own to operate without distractions. A place to bring our thoughts together and mechanically reconstruct cars and repair them within our own limits. This place that my dad and I started building would be known as "The Shop" or a.k.a. "Hopshop." This shop is the last project that my dad started and I was going to finish it....   [tags: Descriptive Writing Examples]

Free Essays
895 words (2.6 pages)

Childhood Memories: My Dad Essay

- When I think back to my childhood memories of my father, I remember most his thirst for learning, his reverence for books and the written word, and the way that he shared and transmitted his commitment to knowledge. I picture my father sitting at the head of the dinner table, my mother always seated to his right. Joining us would be companions from many walks of life, scholars, diplomats, artists, students. My father would lead the discourse on a topic of interest, often with historical and cultural roots....   [tags: Personal Narrative, Essay About Myself, 2014]

Research Papers
464 words (1.3 pages)

Childhood Memories: Mom, Dad, and the Gang-Bangers Essays

- I never quite had the perfect childhood. My friends have memories of playing, laughing, riding bikes, and family road trips. I don't have any of those memories. My most vivid memories from childhood are of red and blue police lights flashing in my eyes. I also recall memories of smoke and liquor. When I was age seven, my father disappeared. I hardly knew him before he was gone. He was like a stranger in my life. Later I learned that he was dead. My mother was always involved with the wrong crowd, including gang members, drug addicts, and alcoholics....   [tags: Personal Narrative 2014]

Free Essays
1500 words (4.3 pages)

Childhood Memories Essay

- Childhood Memories Dad said, "We're going for a ride on the bus." "Ride to where," I thought excitedly. I remember waiting in the bus station; people going about their business. The bus we got on was huge, with room for at least a hundred people, with plenty of room. It was a cold, windy evening. I sat at the front so I could see out of the window. Bright lights were heading towards us. It seemed as though we had been travelling for hours. The bus stopped a few times to pick people up, on the way....   [tags: Papers]

Research Papers
614 words (1.8 pages)

My Childhood Memories Of The Philippines Essay

- One of my earliest childhood memories was my maternal relatives, my mother, and I embarking on the process of leaving our homeland; waiting for hours in lines that never seemed to conclude everytime we go to the American embassy, hiding from the check ups and formidable butt shots that my older cousins told me about, and experiencing the thrilling first flight during the typhoon season. I was born in the Philippines which is recently known for its greatest export: its people. More than a million filipinos leave the Philippines every year for employment, usually as: seamen, nurses, domestic helpers, etc....   [tags: Family, Grandparent, Mother, Father]

Research Papers
1312 words (3.7 pages)

Childhood Memories : My Life Essay

- Childhood memories are often replaced from the imagination. That is, recent memories replace events that transpired during our childhood; these memories are considered fresh by comparison. Still, there are significant moments in our lives that maintain their place in our memory, based on their importance and their contribution to our lives. My life was forever impacted on a Summer day when my father and I had a fishing trip planned. An otherwise normal day of fishing at the lake would have a dramatic impact in my life, developing and accelerating a passion that would continue throughout my adult life, and will remain impactful for the rest of my adult life....   [tags: Automobile, Truck, Replacements, Memory]

Research Papers
902 words (2.6 pages)

Essay on My Childhood Memories Of My Life And Memories

- I think of my life and memories as an ocean: serene and still or rough and rigid. But in the end it’s always beautiful and breath-taking. Some of my memories warm me up from the inside. But they also tear me apart. Unfortunately, the memories that teared me apart are the best I can remember. My childhood memories, when I look back at them, are filled with resentment and bitterness. The first few memories, I was spent with strangers. Strangers my parents paid to be our care-givers. Some of this strangers were kind and compassionate, some were troubled and negligent....   [tags: High school, Secondary school, Sibling]

Research Papers
1346 words (3.8 pages)

Childhood Vs Childhood Adulthood Essays

- Childhood and adulthood are two different, but equally important times in our lives. The special moments such as learning how to ride a bike, or pulling out your teeth, and ding dong ditching your neighbor's house, are all memories that come to mind when thinking about childhood. Graduating high school, applying to college, buying your first car or first house all bring back adulthood recaps of your life, and while both of these are very major and unforgettable moments apart of our lives, I’m going to talk about how similar and different these times really are....   [tags: Childhood, Adult, Mother, Child, Adulthood]

Research Papers
1014 words (2.9 pages)

Essay about Childhood Memories

- When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains. When I heard my parents talking about going to Disney World I was so excited. It was a long trip down to Florida and I could not sit still, because I was so excited....   [tags: Personal Narrative]

Research Papers
1054 words (3 pages)

Related Searches

We would go out for a couple hours, riding all around the coal mines and woods in Duncott, going up huge hills and speeding over any obstacle. I remember riding down the middle of the railroad tracks and feeling the knobby tire go over each railroad tie because of the outdated coiled suspension on the rear wheel. The infrequent but fun rides went on for quite some years before the time would come that I wanted to get my own bike and ride my Dad’s. I finally got big enough so that I could hold a bike up myself, so I saved all my birthday and Christmas money and bought my own bike. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but it would serve its purpose: to be beaten to the ground so I could learn how to handle a bike before I could ride the powerful green machine.

I had learned everything I needed to know and it was finally time for me to try it out, to ride the 250. My Dad told me I could ride it if I could start it. The long kick shaft was too much for me; I couldn’t do it! I was quite disappointed but I guess my Dad felt bad because he started it for me, eventually. I slowly let out the clutch and ka-put. The bike had stalled; I tried again and again. Finally, on about the forth attempt I got going. I rode the bike around and around the yard! I never wanted to stop, but unfortunately it was getting late; it was time to go in and get cleaned up. Over the next several months, I would continue these short rides around the yard before my Dad let me ride it behind the house where he couldn’t see, but I still wasn’t allowed to go over the other side of the mountain.

Then one summer, my cousin, Roger, had come to stay at my grandparents for summer break with me. So everyday we would go out riding around the area. He would take our ATV, and I would ride the awesome racer. It was a normal day of riding when I decided to try to jump off this one dirt mound with the bike. Everything was fine, until the jumping part came into effect. The bike flipped end over end hitting me in the face and landing on top of me. I was knocked out for a minute or two when my cousin came over to check on me. I was stunned and hurt. My lip was cut open. I was quite bruised and had a lot of brush burns on most of my left forearm. He helped me up, and I tried to start the bike; I was too weak. It wouldn’t start, because it was flooded! My cousin took me on the four-wheeler, and we went to the house and got my Dad. While my grandfather cleaned my wounds with peroxide my Dad went and got his bike. It wasn’t in that bad of shape, but the exhaust pipe that went underneath the bike and pointed out the back, now pointed straight up in the air. Dad wasn’t too happy with me at this point, so I wasn’t allowed to ride it for a while. As soon as I was allowed to ride it again, I was back riding though. My Dad knew I loved his bike, so he told me something I could have never even imagined. His brother, my uncle, Gery, had bought the same exact bike the same time my Dad did. He had wrecked it years ago and didn’t have the money to fix it. So my Dad bought it for spare parts. He said it was in an old shanty behind the house and we could restore it and it would be mine. We pulled out all the old rusted parts and began to sort through them all.

We started from the frame up sanding everything down and repainting everything the original color. He had most of the old parts, but some parts we had to go buy or try to order off the Internet somewhere. I loved every minute of this. We had almost everything we needed to get the bike running until we went to get the magneto. The part had cost 300 dollars if Kawasaki even produced it, which they didn’t. We are still at this point on the bike; it is all together but does not run. Hopefully it will be running soon, but even if the bike never runs it will be kept in the family because of all the good and bad memories it brings back. It is only actually worth about 50 dollars to some people for scrap metal, but to me it priceless, because I could never get rid of it. For the rest of my life, every time I see that 76 KX250 and its lime green gas tank, it will bring back all the memories from my childhood with my father’s identical bike.
Return to