As I grew older, I became more mature and sophisticated. I became more knowledgeable, formed my own opinions and political views, and gained new insight into my life. I became more sociable and saw people and things in a new light. I also lose my naivety and saw who my dad truly was for the first time and that saddened me. When I was a young child, my dad was my idol and hero. He seemed to know everything and had the solution to every problem. Any difficulty I had, anything I didn’t understand, my dad had the answer to everything. It seemed like it was every day that he taught me a new valuable life lesson and always had wise advice to share. My dad used to work all day long in Boston and my brother and I would wait by the door to greet him with a crushing hug as soon as he came home. I used to wait eagerly for my dad to come to my room to read me a bedtime story and then tuck me into bed. My dad could do no wrong. He was right about everything and knew how to deal with anything. However, as I grew older, my convictions changed and the image I had of my dad fragmented. As the years …show more content…
went by, I noticed more and more things about my dad that upset me. One of the first unsettling things I noticed was when he yelled at a waitress in a restaurant over a simple mistake she made. I began to notice more and more the disdain my dad seemed to have for those people he deemed lesser than him. I saw judgment from him towards people who were overweight, deeply religious, homosexual, or dumb. This bothered me deeply and we gradually grew apart. I also noticed how close-minded he was and his firm belief that he was right about everything. I could no longer ignore his extreme pretentiousness and arrogance. Any discussion of societal views between us quickly turned into a heated argument. We don’t speak much nowadays and many times I feel I do not know how to behave or act towards him. My dad was no longer someone I idolized. I wanted to be nothing like my dad when I grew up. Recently, a close friend’s father passed away and it reminded me of a ski trip two years ago.
My father, brother, a couple family friends, and I had trekked up to New Hampshire for an exciting weekend. On one trip down from the summit, there was an enormous ski jump and my father decided to race down it and fly off the end. My initial awe and impressed attitude quickly disappeared as he landed with an enormous thud on his side. His face was as white as the snow surrounding him and he could barely hold in the screams of pain. He had dislocated his shoulder and thankfully, the local ski rescue team was able to help him recover. However, for the next few months, he had severe difficulty moving his arm and could not complete any physical activity. I had never seen him more fragile and I was reminded of how many times he had taken care of me when I was hurt or comforted him after a
dilemma. Since I constantly criticize my father, I always overlook his best aspects. He is intelligent and can expertly solve most problems. He works harder than almost anyone I know and has provided so much for my family. He previously flunked out of college, but worked hard to earn a master’s degree and provide for my family. He has always placed my needs and desires above his own and has always cared for me. The death of my close friend’s father has taught me to be thankful for what I have. My father’s positive attributes undoubtedly surpass his negative personality traits. My father may not be perfect, but he is the only one I have.
Four years ago I lost a very special person in my life from cancer. My grandpa's death had a huge impact on my life along with my other family members. My grandpa was my biggest fan and probably the Wisconsin Badger's as well. Every game I could look into the stands and he would be there. Since he has passed, before every basketball game I think of him saying "Shoot a couple 3's for me tonight". I used this as an inspiration to do my best in every play of the game. My grandpa helped me set personal goals such as making fifty three's in a season, which I accomplished my last game of my junior year.
My parents journey from Vietnam to America has impacted me emotionally through out the years by the stories they tell me. For them to say their aspiration was to come to America to have greater opportunities, for there family is breath taking. Without my parent’s journey and stories, my identity would be so plain and incomplete.
Ever since I was a little girl I always wanted my life to be like the ones in movies, but sadly it was not. Having one parent wasn't easy, but my dad did his best to be a great father. My parents separated when I was 7 years old and that was when my childhood changed. Growing up with no mother was difficult, in fact, I felt left out when I would be around my friends because they had both of their parents and did family things together and I didn't. It was very depressing for me because I felt like I was different from everyone else. I also felt like I couldn't do anything or go far with my future goals because I didn't get much support like others did. I never found it easy, but I’m glad I had a father that stood by my side through thick and
Growing up without my dad always within the household was a struggle I did not ask for. He would be with us for a year or two, then leave for a while, but oddly swore that he could buy my love by dangling a dollar sign over my head whenever he’d return. Through my life experiences, I have acquired knowledge through experiences, rather than lectures.
It was extraordinary, indescribable, breathtaking. I looked out of the window next to me, and before my eyes was the view of a clear, blue sky, covered in sheets of snowy, white clouds. Slowly we began descending through them, revealing the expanse of blue water, stretching in every direction of the horizon. In the far right I could see a glimpse of main land, but not just any land, India. It was there and then, that I knew my life would be changed forever.
The time I accomplished something would have to be ever since I got a job myself, when I told my mom about the job she didn’t like the idea she wanted me to focus on school and helping her out at the house and taking care of my sisters. She wanted me to not worry and just worry about school but I see a lot of people my age working and getting money they earned by working and I got interested myself and for me it didn’t matter where I worked as long as I did.
"No, I'm sorry your grandfather will never be strong enough to withhold surgery." I heard from a deep voiced man standing across the room from my mom and I. When I was younger I lived with my mom and grandparents. My mom was a young, working, single mother with an alcohol addiction. My grandparents helped her tremendously. They were like a second set of parents just a little bit better because they would give me chocolate milk, the real chocolate milk! My grandma was a little sick but she still did everything for everyone. She taught me how to cook, bake, sew, garden and also how to swim. My grandpa on the other hand was my best buddy! Everywhere he went I went whether it was to the store, down the street to a neighbors house, or even to mow
Without my dad I wouldn’t have the rough I have over my head or the shoes on my feet. Without my dad I wouldn’t have my truck on the road. Without my dad I wouldn’t know what a job or responsibility is. Without my dad I would probably be the mean kid who bully’s. Without my dad I wouldn’t know how to respect people. Without my dad my life wouldn’t be as fun and happy as it is. My dad is my hero for all these reasons.
My father was always there for me, whether I wanted him to be or not. Most of the time, as an adolescent trying to claim my independence, I saw this as a problem. Looking back I now realize it was a problem every child needs, having a loving father. As hard as I tried to fight it, my dad instilled in me the good values and work ethic to be an honest and responsible member of society. He taught me how to be a good husband. He taught me how to be a good father. He taught me how to be a man. It has been 18 years since my father’s death, and I am still learning from the memories I have of him.
I look up to my father, not only because he is six feet, three inches, but also because he is such a motivating, respectful, and caring individual. If someone were to ask me to use one word to describe my dad, I would instantly respond with: my hero. My dad, Kevin, is the most courageous man I have ever met. I aspire to eventually gain all my dad’s endearing qualities. My dad has been through some really difficult struggles throughout his forty-seven years of life and has never once shown a sign of weakness to my sisters or me. I admire him for all of his hard work every day.
I learned of my father’s identity for the first time after I heard my mother, Penelope--queen of Ithaca--, speaking to one of our servants about him. Later that night, I had asked her about him--one of many times though--but this time… something was different. With tears in her eyes, she finally told me about my father. “He left to fight the war against the brutes of Troy. He said that he would not be gone long, that because the gods were on our side, that they would bring us victory. That was twenty years ago, the war was over seven years ago, and still no word from your father, his men, or the gods.” After she told me this, she pulled the soft, silky sheets up tightly around my neck, put her finger on my nose, and whispered quietly, “There
However, one thing I can say about my father is that he is the most loving, kind, and supportive man I have in my life. Today he is my biggest cheerleader and he will do anything for me. I love my father and he loves me more than I ever knew. He is pushing me towards my dreams to make them come to life. I regret now chasing my dreams from the beginning but it sure feels good to have my dad on my side now. I have learned to never again allow someone else’s ideals or expectations guide my future.
There are times when you don’t know what to do or times when you might feel like you have no help in this world, but there is always that one person who never fails to give you the best advice in life, and that is your father. I have so much respect for any father out there that works hard, and always supports his family no matter what his imperfections might be. My father has got to be the best one in my opinion. He has been the biggest inspiration in my life because he taught me so much stuff in this life that I can’t find a way to pay him. He has been a very humble person and has never seen himself better than anyone else because he believes he is equal to any other father. In my opinion he is the best even though he says he isn’t. My father had imperfections just like any other human being in this world, yet he still taught me how to be a great person in this world by teaching me good morals. “Never Give Up, and believe in God and you will accomplish what you want in life” are words my father always tells me to remember.
I was seventeen, about to enter my senior year at Dryden High School when my whole world changed. My father, William passed away at the age of sixty-three. As a result of my father being an alcoholic, my mother wouldn’t allow him around any children until he got help. The first time I remember meeting my father was a warm summer day in August, it was my sixth birthday. My father, the United States Army veteran, still carried himself in his usual 1950’s Grease fashion, complete with his hair slicked back, a cigarette and leather jacket even after being diagnosed with emphysema and diabetes. Two weeks before he passed away, my father came to visit me, I sat on the blue sofa in my mother’s living room while he sat on the matching love seat across the room, and suddenly in the middle of the conversation he grew quiet. It was the scariest moment in my life when I witnessed my personal Superman, who had fought in the Vietnam War and overcame his own personal demons and addictions, have a heart attack. I remember sitting in his hospital room, he had gray and white wires attached to his chest and a breathing mask over his mouth and nose. Even at the age of sixty-three, he resembled a young John Travolta, strong and lively, but at that moment he looked
My father had broken his pelvis in 4 places. He looked helpless and miserable, something I had never seen until that day. Over time, he learned how to use his lower body again. With the help of my family and the support of his friends, my dad started to get better. The doctors said he would never be able to walk again, but within three months of living in his parents’ house in a hospital bed, being taken care of like a child, he gained back his strength and is better than before. Besides the emotional trauma this incident left on my family, it’s physically like the accident never even happened.