Not All Superheroes Wear Capes 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. As I was staring into the peaceful blue sky, listening to my Britney Spears music on my purple iPod Nano, riding to see relatives in Iowa, the aroma of cigarette smoke wafted back to my seat. My head started to feel like there was an electric pain behind my eyes, making me want to vomit. I always get nauseous from the stench of cigarettes. With my whiny voice, I started complaining to my dad. I express to him that he is hurting himself and that he is making me sick. That was the last cancer stick my dad ever had. After twenty-five years of smoking, at that moment my dad quit for good. Personally, I do not know the struggles of quitting smoking, but I have heard how hard it is to quit. He did it though, not …show more content…
only for himself, but also for his family. My perspective of my dad changed in that instant. I finally realized he was someone who would go through hell just to keep his kids happy. Not only is my dad willing to do anything for his kids, my father is a motivated, hardworking businessman. In May of 2008 my dad opened his own business, a mattress store named Sleep Tight, in Quincy, Illinois, located between the Walmart and Sams Club. My dad had worked at Ashley Furniture for thirteen years before he opened Sleep Tight, so he had an idea of how to handle the stress of running a business. Sleep Tight was just a small business at first, but I watched my dad shape it and flourish it to what it is now. Even though, it is still just a business that only local people know about, we now have three different locations for Sleep Tight: Quincy, Macomb, and Hannibal. We have also opened a Sit Tight where he sells top of the line furniture. My dad has adeptly handled all with the obstacles that every business owner has experienced. While dealing with workers, just opening his own business, and going through the nicotine withdrawals, he was still my rock, showing no signs of weakness. I will never forget where I was when my parents told me about my dad’s sickness.
About four years ago, I was packed in the backseat with my younger sisters, with my parents in the front seats. We were on the interstate heading to eat at Fuji and my mom says that they have something serious to talk to us about. The first thoughts that run through my juvenile mind is that there was a death, or that my parents were getting a divorce. There was a long, uncanny silence, when my dad, being the jokester he is, makes a joke that incorporates the fact that he has colon cancer. Not even at one of the toughest moments of his life did he show that he was in
pain. Colon cancer is the cancer of your lower intestine. The risk of developing colon cancer is one in twenty people. My father just happened to be the one in that ratio. Ninety percent of people who get colon cancer are above the age of fifty. Being only 45 at the time, it was not nearly as likely for my dad to develop this disease. My dad decided to go to Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota for all of his surgeries and doctor appointments. He spent many nights and many days away from his life. At the time, I did not realize how much of an impact this was having on him. I am amazed to think about how he managed to fight cancer, while still trying to keep his business prosperous and his family intact. Even though he was gravely sick, he still never missed a chance to make me feel special. When people ask me who my favorite superhero is, I assume they usually expect me to respond with Spiderman, Batman, or Superman. If I did respond with one of those characters, I would be lying. My dad is my hero; he is the one person I look up to most. Throughout my seventeen years of living, my dad has taught me more life lessons than anyone else has. He taught me how to drive and to never brag. He always told me to never judge someone by how they dress. I consider myself to be the female version of my dad. Not only did I get my physical appearances from him, but I have received a majority of his personality traits as well. He pushes me to keep my grades up; and he makes sure I treat people the way I want to be treated. My dad is my rock; he has shaped me into who I am. He is the strongest, toughest, most courageous person I know, and that is why he is why he is my hero.
With a busy work schedule and the seemingly constant need for sleep, my dad always makes time for his family. Whether it’s rushing home to chaperone a field trip, or strategically planning vacation days to be off when the rest of the family is, my dad is a dedicated husband, and father. Through all the chaos of life he makes time to have dinner with us every night, coach baseball and football, carpool friends, and voluntarily construct sets for the productions I am apart of. Not only does he do these things things, but he does them with love. The bond and dedication my father has given me, is something I will be forever grateful for.
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
My dad has always been there for me both as a parent and a friend. When I was little, my dad got involved in coaching in my little league baseball, basketball and soccer, and always made time for these father and son activities. We liked to play ball together and still do at times. My dad is a big sports fan and so am I, and I look forward to the weekends when we watch the ball games together. My dad started to take my to the ball games when I was about 5 years old, and we've been doing that ever since. But, playing ball isn't all that's important in life. My father has given me the necessary guidance and has taught me values as a person that have helped me develop from a child into a responsible adult. I want him to be proud of me too, and I know that he is.
Living our busy lives no one else in the family could travel to Houston. Grandma was a strong woman. She could overcome anything and cancer was not going to defeat her. When she arrived at the hospital the doctors took a cat scan and figured out that she had stage four melanoma skin cancer. While my mother and grandma were at M.D. Anderson I was at home living a normal life just starting my first high school basketball season. Every night I worried about how she was doing not thinking about my school work or my athletics. A couple weeks later I called grandma and asked her how she was doing and she assured me that everything was going to be okay and that I should not worry about her. That’s how she lived. She never put herself first in any situation and family and friends were her main focus. Grandma would do anything to make her grandkids happy. I told my grandma I loved her and hung up the phone. The next day at school I looked up the percentage of people killed by melanoma skin cancer and the results were not good. One person dies of melanoma every 54 minutes. When I got home that evening I told my dad that I needed to be in Houston with my grandma. He said he didn’t think that he could make it happen with his busy schedule. I called my mom upset realizing that
Peter Parker said, “Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget these words: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I’m Spiderman.” Without a doubt, being a superhero would be fun in the beginning, but being a superhero in general would ultimately lead to a miserable life. A superhero would always have great responsibility, would have fear of putting their loved ones in danger, and would have trouble trying to live two different lives if they chose to keep their identity anonymous.
I was the youngest of three children by five years. My dad and I always enjoyed a strong bond. Simply put, we ‘got each other’. He offered me a great deal of encouragement, coupled with an equal amount of responsibility. We enjoyed engaging in intellectual, challenging and stimulating conversations. My friends and friends of my siblings loved to hang out at our house and enjoyed being around my dad. He cared a lot, about everyone, offered unbiased advice and was always supportive and encouraging. I believe he epitomized the autho...
Never would I have expected something this exponential to happen to my father and have such an impact on my family. When I was younger I used to be upset that I was the only one doing things around the house, but as I got older I knew my father appreciated all my help. My grandparents would also try and help as much as they could. I am thankful that I have become a better and stronger person during my father’s battle with this horrific disease. It has made a huge impact on the person I am today and the person I plan to be as I grow older. My father will always be an amazing person and a substantial fighter in my eyes. He decided to go and buy an iPhone so that we can FaceTime at least once a day and it’s something I always look forward to. No matter what mood I am in, Dad always knows how to put a smile on my face. We all urge everyone to go and have their house tested for radon levels just to be safe. So tell me, when was the last time you told your parents you loved
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.
My dad is always happy to help. He always has time to assist me with whatever I need. Sometimes when I don't comprehend a certain thing on my homework, he works through the problem with me until I fully understand how to solve it myself. He is very inquisitive and is always showing me diverse ways to solve my problems If I have to do chores around the house, he is always the first one I call. He and I work together as a team and finish them. Also, I speak two languages, so it is a little hard when I am talking to my parents to not get the two mixed up. Luckily, my dad helps me by correcting me if I mispronounce a word or phrase and reminds every time I make that same mistake so it sticks in my head forever. That way when I'm talking to my grandparents or other family members, I know how to speak properly.
I battled with my father to stop smoking ever since I knew smoking was harmful. Sometimes, I just wanted to set fire to all his cigarettes, especially when he coughed in pain. Moreover, after a sweet morning hug, I had to endure the nauseating smell of cigarette smoke lingering on my clothes the whole day.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.
A good parent makes a big difference not only in their child’s life, but in the lives of everyone that child effects. My father is what I would consider the epitome of a good parent. He may not have had the most successful life; some may argue that his life has been downright difficult. Surviving a car accident at the age of 9, raising two teenage daughters, going through a divorce, dealing with anorexia and self harm within the family, losing his dream and dealing with the death of the woman he loved. Throughout all of the peaks and pitfalls he has endured, he has surmounted and survived. I would classify my father as a survivor. Not the television show type survivor, just a regular guy rising above difficulty and maintaining his courteous character. I would imagine that some of these things would crush most people, or at least wear them away to a lesser person than they started out. One of the many trials in life is to endure through difficult times and to not let those difficult times break you, but to make you stronger.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
My dad is a hero to me because he shows me strength he explains the bad choices he has made in his life so that I can make the good choices. If it wasn’t for my mom and Jesus, my dad wouldn’t be who he is today. My dad is a man of honor to My Lord and Savior. He shows me that if I ever need help with a decision, I need to either go to him or ask God for help. When my dad started working here in Greeley, he, my mom, and I all had to make a decision to move up here. My mom and I didn’t get to see my dad a lot in Trinidad, so that’s when my mom said we were going to move up here to be him.