Admissions Essay - My Father Died of AIDS
Seventeen years ago, I came bounding into a world of love and laughter. I was the first child, the first grandchild, the first niece, and the primary focus of my entire extended family. Although they were not married, my parents were young and energetic and had every good intention for their new baby girl. I grew up with opportunities for intellectual and spiritual growth, secure in the knowledge that I was loved, free from fear, and confident that my world was close to perfect. And I was the center of a world that had meaning only in terms of its effect on me-- what I could see from a height of three feet and what I could comprehend with the intellect and emotions of a child. This state of innocence persisted through my early teens, but changed dramatically in the spring of my sophomore year of high school. My beloved father was dying of AIDS.
From the moment my parents told me, I confronted emotions and issues that many adults have never faced.
Death of a parent, and AIDS specifically, forced my view of the world and my sense of responsibility to take a dramatic turn. I had already accepted my father's homosexuality and had watched through the years as he experienced both prejudice and acceptance related to his sexual preference. However, in this case I did not have the benefit of time to understand my father's illness since he decided not to tell me until he had developed full-blown AIDS. My role in the relationship was suddenly reversed.
Where I had once been the only child of my single father, I was now the parent to the debilitated child.
By the summer of my junior year, I had rearranged the structure of my life; as my father's illness progressed and he became increasingly incapacitated, he depended on me a great deal.
Each morning before school I took him to the hospital where he received blood transfusions or chemotherapy to treat the lymphoma that was destroying his body. After school, I raced home to complete my homework so that I could later go to his apartment. There I cooked meals, cleaned up, and administered his oral and intravenous medications. Working with IVs became second nature to me. I found myself familiar with the names of drugs like Cytovene, used to treat CMV, Neupogen, to raise one's white blood cell count, and literally countless others.
A role model is someone that is sought for guidance, and often admired. When thinking of my own role model, the qualities I wish to have when I become an adult come to mind. When scanning through the many influential adults that have shaped who I am today, deciding on just one role model is a difficult feat. However, I see the person I wish to become, reflected in the life of my dad. For that reason, my role model is my own father.
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.
Last time I remember my family being bright and happy as a whole was probably seven years ago. My family members were my perseverance, my strength, and most importantly my friends who always supported me. When I fell down, it was their hands and smiles that gave me strength to get back on my feet, when I felt like giving up, it was their arms that opened widely to embrace and receive me. As joyful as we can be, I thought my family, was the most beautiful and most pure thing that lived in my life. Lived, sad truth that can’t be forgotten even through numerous of years of facing the same old reality of what happened; where was the breakdown? I wondered. I knew it was useless to attempt to cover up the wound that was deeply implanted in me but in hopes of making the memories of this disaster disappear, I , a young child, was allowed time to cover up those memories as best I could. I often told myself, “at least I have a family… I shouldn’t be sad” and thought of those who were adopted and how they felt. However, the scar deepened by seconds and the spaces to fill were rapidly widening. If I had to be hurt, I would just endure the pain even if I wanted to lean on someone; I kept it all to myself and believed in patience. The impact on which family separation have had on children has been a major problem throughout the world for centuries. Yet, parents fail to acknowledge the effect of how their own irresponsibility can sway their children’s educations, their future, and their body image as their children struggle to continue their life assuming they were abandoned.
When I was younger, I remember feeling as though I lived in a bubble; my life was perfect. I had an extremely caring and compassionate mother, two older siblings to look out for me, a loving grandmother who would bake never ending sweets and more toys than any child could ever realistically play with. But as I grew up my world started to change. My sister developed asthma, my mother became sick with cancer and at the age of five, my disabled brother developed ear tumors and became deaf. As more and more problems were piled upon my single mother’s plate, I, the sweet, quiet, perfectly healthy child, was placed on the back burner. It was not as though my family did not love me; it was just that I was simply, not a priority.
Most individuals have experienced the everlasting joy and love that comes with caring family and friends, but the realization is that agony and despair will always win the war of light and dark, and family and friends are simply just impeding the end result. When a child is born, agony is already set in place, for screaming and crying will commence as soon as the child feels hands clasped on to him. However, this agony is soon met with joy as the child is met with his mother’s soothing heartbeat. Moreover, sometimes this heartbeat never comes, and thus, agony and despair stay within this child’s heart forever. Jimmy Baca, a lost young man who has only witnessed pain in his life, is this child. Furthermore, there comes a time in every individual’s
Hemingway has a very simple and straightforward writing style however his story lacks emotion. He makes the reader figure out the characters’ feelings by using dialogue. “...
Moderation is fully evident in Hemingway’s characters. Santiago, the protagonist of The Old Man and the Sea, firmly balances two contrasting qualities - his humility and pride. Santiago reveals his humble nature when Manolin asserts that he is the best fisherman to which Santiago replies “No. I know others better.” (The Old Man and the Sea 23). Meanwhile Santiago’s attempt to capture the fish and prove that he is a capable man despite his old age signifies that he retains a certain level of pride for his masculinity. Humility is the antithesis of pride, yet, the old man has the ability to retain both through moderation. Emotions are not the only characteristics to be moderated; actions as well as speech must be balanced. In “Indian Camp”, the father explains a mature topic –the act of givin...
As Santiago thought the ultimate challenge was over, the worse was yet to come. The shark had sensed the Marlin’s blood and moved after it. It approached and ate the Marlin. The old man had to fight back with them. “Fight them. I’ll fight them until I die.” (Pg. 115). Santiago used all of his supplies to fight with the shark: harpoon, tiller, etc. By the time Santiago came back to Havana, the Marlin now was just a carcass bone. The sharks played an important role in the story.
In the story Santiago’s bravery is unsurpassed but it is not until he hooks the “great fish” that we truly see his valor and perseverance. Through Santiago’s actions Hemingway teaches the reader about bravery and perseverance in the face of adversity. He demonstrates that even when all is lost and seems hopeless a willful heart and faith will overcome anything. Santiago had lost his “luckiness” and therefore the respect of his village. Through the description of his cabin we also suspect that Santiago is a widower. Although Santiago has had many troubles he perseveres. He has faith in Manolin, in the Yankees, in Joe DiMaggio, and most importantly in himself.
The Old Man and the Sea focuses its plot mainly on Santiago’s struggle against the marlin. Existentialism makes its appearance when Santiago chooses to pursue the marlin, stay with it the entire way, and fight tooth and nail at the end. “My choice was to go there to find him beyond all people,” is how Santiago explains his actions to challenge the fish (Hemingway 50). He mentions how he was born to be a fisherman, and by chasing the marlin, he will give his life the meaning for existence. Santiago also insists on staying with the fish until one of them is dead, which exemplifies his will to fulfill his goals in life. He endures obstacles such as nausea, cramps, and sleep deprivation because he does not want to give up and surrender his fate. When it comes down to the final struggle, Santiago pits all of the pain, strength, and pride he has left against the fish in order to bring it down. Despair begins to creep in when Santiago finds it hard to pull in the marlin, but he overcomes it with every ounce of will he has. He knows that it is up to him to create this important moment in his li...
Parents go through a wave of emotions when losing a child. They are not only in disbelief and denial, but also feel angry and guilty. Some parents find themselves wanting to talk about it, while others find it easier to talk about the death of friends or other family members rather than their child’s. When a child dies this disrupts the parent’s health and well-being during the hardest phase of bereavement and for long periods over the course of their lives (Hong, Floyd & Seltzer, 2010).
The old man and the sea is a novella about an old Cuban fisherman, Santiago, and his three-day battle with a giant Marlin fish. Throughout the novella, Santiago is portrayed in different perspectives. He is tough and refuses to give up at any time. He withholds the will to continue and the courage to overcome what is believed to be the impossible. His persistence and confidence, his absolute determination and his unique way of accepting the reality makes him a noble hero.
We arrived at the emergency room only to find several people already there. Joey was begging me to do something to stop the pain in his back; we waited and waited and waited. Finally, in total anger and despair I set out to find someone to help. The doctor came over, examined him and asked me several questions; it was slowly becoming apparent to me that this doctor did not have any answers. Meanwhile I was growing more concerned about the unknown; what was wrong with my child? The doctor, obviously puzzled by the situation, decided to run a CBC (complete blood count). This took what felt like an eternity, suddenly the doctor became somewhat evasive, almost secretive. I was exasperated, determined to find out what was wrong with Joey’s lab report. I inched my way over behind the curtain, so I could overhear bits and pieces of the doctor’s conversation. They were discussing things like a low hemoglobin count and a high white blood cell count, then I heard it, the most devastating word I have ever heard a doctor say-Leukemia.
Some memories are best forgotten, but it takes courage to go through them. Often, I wish to forget the day when I almost lost my parents in a tragic car accident. As my world came crumbling down, I prayed and hoped that the nightmare would soon end. I endlessly fought the sense of helplessness, isolation and fear of the uncertainty. I was 19 and clueless. Nevertheless, I sailed through these dreadful days and welcomed my parents home after six long months. In the months that followed my parent’s return, I juggled between taking care of my parents, graduating college and adjusting to my new job. Almost 10 years later, this dark phase still has a phenomenal impact on me. Perhaps, because this specific experience transformed me into a grateful,
It was on a Friday morning at 4:30 A.M. that happiness and joy filled the hearts of both my parents. I was born on November 29, 1996 at Broward General Hospital in Fort Lauderdale Florida. My parents had five children, and among the five children that they had, I was the third (or middle) child from them. It started off as two boys, then I came along as the first girl, after it was another boy, then finally, another baby girl; so total was three boys and two girls. The way that my parents lived and treated each other was the same as if any other married couple that loved each other so much. They’ve gone through a lot to get to where they are now today, but they made it and along the way had us five children. They have been really strong with each other which made them only have the five of us and no other step children. My mom is a great cook and enjoy cooking for us; this is probably where my passion for culinary comes from. My dad is an amazing tailor, he is very good at making our clothes, and my passion for fashion probably came from him. My dad is also a teacher, one of the best math teacher I know, he is passionate about his job and his family is the center of his universe. I cannot finish this chapter without mentioning my grandmother, I was lucky enough to have ever met. I had spent part of my life time with her, like the rest of the family she is sweet, my grandmother Abelus,