A Short Story : The Story Of My Dad's Life

I once read a book about a guy who believes that everyone gets a tragedy at some point in their life. I never thought this could be true, because some people have great lives, and even if they do not how would they decide what the single hardest moment was? Recently my father passed away, and I realized you do not get to decide, you just know. This had been the hardest point in my life, however, the same book taught me that good things can come out of any bad experience if you look for them. Before I could see that I had to deal with many things, such as realizing he was really gone, going to his funeral, and going back to school. I also had to cope with the fact that I would never have the chance to change the relationship I

Have you ever had a hero in your life, someone that is always there for you when you need them? I did, I called him "my dad." My dad was the only person that could make me laugh when I was feeling down. My dad was that person who had so much love for his family. My dad was the person who I could call and he'd always pick up. My dad was the person who would drop everything just to help me. My dad was the biggest hero in my life and to this day, still is.

1. I packed only casual clothes for my trip. A pair of jeans, two T-shirts, and a sweater.

No one knows the story behind why my dad is such a horrible. You've only heard bits and parts of the story that are easy for me to explain. They don't make me tear up because I know that nothing is ever going to change. There're some parts in the story that make me frustrated and tear up and those are the parts that I hate to share. I just have to be strong enough and courageous enough to tell the parts that hurt the most. I share my feelings about my dad on this blog to vent and to show you that through difficult times you're not alone. Sometimes you feel like you're trapped in a dark hole and you can't get out. The truth is you can get out. Look for the light at the end of the dark hole. There is light somewhere you can't be stuck in the dark for the rest of

It was the spring of 2013. My mom took me out of school early that day because we needed to get driving to Dike, Iowa. Since my sister is also a volleyball player, she has state that same weekend, but not in the same place. However, the sophomores were at the same place we were. Anyhow, my sister drove with my mom to the hotel her team was staying at, and I drove with my dad. I’m a lot like my dad so I get ready pretty quickly and I only pack what’s needed. When I got home, it took me about five minutes to get ready since I packed my bag the day before. On the other hand, my mom had to take at least half an hour to “fix” her makeup and her hair, and my sister took about forty-five minutes just to pack her bag! Anyways, my dad and I made it

When I got the phone call that my dad was dead I could not believe it. I became overcome with denial “No, not my dad, he wouldn’t leave me!”. I called his phone, hoping with all of my soul that he would answer the phone like he always did, greeting me with a joke of some sort. This was not the case, so I broke down. It felt like my heart was ripped out of my body and stomped on. I have always been a daddy's girl so at first I did not know how I was supposed to go on. It had always been ‘Roland and Hannah’ for anything: partners for games at home, driving together, and many other things. He was my biggest teacher and my other half. I quickly became overcome with denial “No, not my dad, he wouldn’t leave me! He knows how much I need him!”.

“La la la!” I was running around my room dancing to Kidz Bop on Pandora. My blonde hair half up half down.

When he releases his hold and gets up off the bed, I cough. "Thought you said I couldn't fool you with that." I grate out with a smile. His smile relents a little, but then he just stares at me. His eyes rake all over my body and back up to my heavily exposed cleavage that this dress gives me. My skin crawls and I attempt to change the subject.

I’m doing wonderful in the big house we live in in California. Its amazing. Tommy acts like a dad to me and sometimes I catch myself calling him dad. When I do he seems to glow brighter and it makes me smile knowing I’m making him happy. I smile all the time now these days.

“Hello, I’m Elizabeth, you may be wondering how I’m speaking to you, well I’m a ghost. Boo. *smiles* Well, I am going to tell you my story, it all started back in the 1820s. It’s been so long that I forgot the exact year it all happened in. Well, here’s my story of my death..”

This is what biking means to me. This is a simple moment but in my mind it’s quite complex. How it makes me disappear and how i feel quiet, and calm. My moment is biking down a big hill.

You know how when your a kid and you dont think anything could go wrong: well thats what I thought and then everything went wrong. Let me start at the beginning though I was born July 1st 1996,i was sort of an unexpected surprise my mother had only wanted one child and she was already planing on leaving my dad when she found out she was pregnant. Not wanting to leave two kids without a father she tried working things out with my father again that only lasted 6months after I was born and mom came back home with her parents with not one but two kids. My grandparents immediately took charge of the situation and helped there single daughter raise her children in doing so they took us in as there children. How you may ask well by they took us in as there children they literally took us in my mom

My father was a lifeguard, but not in my lifetime, so maybe loving the ocean was in our blood. As children we grew up in Brooklyn and we would go to Riis Park for our day at the beach. One very distinct memory is of my father as he stood waist deep in the ocean with my brother and sister; the waves periodically lifted and dropped them in the water at his side. Waist deep for my father meant it was well over my head so I remained a safe distance (or so I thought) behind them. Suddenly, a wave appeared and before I could turn and rush to the shoreline the ocean attacked. I found myself in a world of foam, pockets of air allowed me to breathe as I was tossed about like a wet sock in a dryer. Head over heals I tumbled, my skin scrapped by the crushed sea shells that covered the sand. After what felt like an eternity I found myself on the wet sand as the wave retreated out to sea; I’m pretty sure it laughed and gave me the finger as it left.

The passing of my father has significantly helped shape who I am today, as it has prepared me to take leadership positions. Prior to Dad's death, I stayed home and did little community involvement. After his passing, I realized I wanted to be active in extracurricular activities and take advantage of the opportunities I had access to. As a result, I joined the Clinton County 4-H Wranglers, a club where I am an active member and have been Secretary for the past three years. My membership in 4-H has granted me workshops for self-improvement (such as Officer Training and Showmanship), contests to compete in (from the individual-based Hippology contest to the team-structured Horse Bowl competition), and opportunities to give back to the nearby

I heard a loud yell as I stepped off the last step off the bus. It was 4:02pm and I had just gotten back from school. “Emily, come here! Hurry!” It was my dad. 1 million things raced through my head as I heard the loud yell. Was he hurt? Was someone else hurt? Living on a farm, with animals and machinery, you generally don’t think of anything good when you hear yelling.