Descriptive Essay About My Father

Grandparents are the backbone of every family tree. They provide love and nourishment, and even an escape when your annoying parents are getting on your nerves. When your parents say no to junk food, they feed you chocolate chip cookies and M&Ms. Huh. That must be your grandparents. While my grandfather, Henry Malachowski, is still the backbone of the Malachowski clan, he provides me with some of life’s most essential lessons. My grandpa is someone I can depend on for his wisdom when the rest of the world’s advice is not adequate enough for me to succeed in my quests.

Dad raised his four daughters to be close and always put family first. We often talk and joke about him although it's not always easy. Today on his

One event that defined a part of my life that involved literacy was when I had to write a

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

Almost as if he had read my thoughts, my dad said the simplest and most gracious thing, something that I had wanted to hear for the last 12 years of my life:

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.

All I ever wanted was my Dad to be with me. When I was born my dad was with me since I was 2 years old.When I was growing up at 2 years old I had a stepdad because my mom had left because he had done a lot of bad stuff in his past that can probably affect him in the future. When I was 9 my mom started telling me about my dad and what he has done like, drinking while driving. Then after that she started letting me call my dad on her phone we will just talk about me and what’s going on in school and every time am on the phone with him I always ask if he was ok, and if he's ok then I felt like heaven. But then I heard he was still drinking while he is driving and I was scared I didn’t want him to go jail. Even though my dad did lots of bad stuff I still cared about him and I still loved him.

When I think of a hero, many character traits come to my mind: courageous, strong, supernatural, good-looking, and invincible. Even though he has some of these traits, my father contains much better traits. My father is my hero because he is calm, loving, and selfless.

According to Heracutus, “Out of every one hundred men, ten shouldn’t even be there, eighty are just targets, nine are the real fighters, and we are lucky to have them, for they make the battle. Ah, but the one, one is a warrior, and he will bring the others back.” All this quote is really saying is there is always that one person that leads and guides the rest to victory and this would be the best way to describe my grandfather. My grandfather, Odell Blakely, lived an extraordinary life from 1929 to 2010. I always looked at him like the leader of the pack, he never lead me wrong. He was the strongest and the most courageous man, he truly was the one true solider in my life. I could always count on him to keep me on a straight path. During some of these events such as The Great Depression and The Cold War he was a younger child but he still had struggles and hardships like everyone else.

“ Any man can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad “ ( Geddes). All of the people who know or have had some kind of relationship with my father know that he truly is a piece of work. He is a very well known individual throughout our town and is almost always greeted by someone everywhere we go. As well as me, he attended Mount Vernon High School. However, I would not say he was a poster child for the “perfect student”. Any time I introduce myself to someone new there is one response I am almost guaranteed to get. That response is “ is your dad Todd Curtis” ? Sometimes I feel as if he has more friends than I do.

There have been many inspirational people in my life that I’ve come across. One who was a particular inspiration was my grandfather. He married my grandmother when I was at the age of five and had accepted all of her grandchildren from her previous marriage as his own grandchildren. With my mother and I only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out in the country, I’d spent a lot of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a father but my grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and played the role of a father figure.

Wind. Wind was blowing in my face, the smell of a beautiful day with the sun in my eyes. There we were on a miniature motorcycle this little motorcycle was smaller than a moped, and we were riding around the block. He always gave me wonderful rides around the block as my two other siblings waited for their turn. My dad has six kids, his first three are Brennen, Michaela, and I. After my dad remarried he had three more kids Breanna, Avery, and Khema. My dad is originally from cambodia, but they traveled here when he was young now most of his family lives in Philly. My dad is so amazing because he is helpful, funny, and nice.

The colorful leaves lept from the branches hanging above my head. As I stood waiting for the great monster to come roaring in front of me, I smelled the chilling fall air and smiled. I took one last deep breath and inhaled the warm, black smell of tractor fuel and I knew it was almost time. My grandfather came across the enormous field and parked in front of me, I grinned with both fear and excitement. I stepped forward with certainty, crushing the fallen leaves that lay in front of me. My grandfather looked down at me as I stood staring at the intricate parts of the tractor, contemplating on whether I should climb onto his lap or just stand there. Without making up my mind, he snatched me right off the ground, dirt falling off of my untied, pink, Converse. He set me on his lap and quite sternly told me not to touch anything but the steering wheel. After taking a deep breath, I gripped my young four year old hands around the bottom of the wheel, I could see my grandfather's rough hands still holding the wheel at the top, comforting me. Slowly, I felt the tractor roar and saw the leaves jumping behind us as we started to move forward. I closed my eyes fearing I was going to make us crash but remembered, my grandfather was there no matter what.

Having a grandfather is like having a best friend. My grandfather was that figure for me, I called him Pop; he was my mother's father. Pop was always there for me, being a listener and an advice giver. Pop and I connected unlike any other family member I had because he always believed in me and supported everything I did. This support started ever since I was little playing sports and any activities I was engaged in. "Our relationship was unbreakable," my grandmother would always say. Having Pop in my life was like having a third parent with all the lessons he taught me before his death.

It was a cold brisk morning which wasn 't a bad thing considering it discouraged the daily tourists taking their morning strolls while attempting to live out their New York fantasies, but this only had a minuscule effect on the already lively city buzzing with locals. I myself fit didn 't fit into the city though. I am a tall older man who is beginning bald and my fashion sense is a bit plain. I began my walk to work from my smaller apartment on the lower east side with my morning coffee and briefcase in hand while mentally preparing myself for the hectic day ahead of me. I strategically mapped my route to work today so that I could stop by the cemetery to replace the flowers on my father 's grave.