Descriptive Essay About My Father

Tal Prystowsky Mr. Petro English 3 September 25th, 2017 June 16th 1964, that’s the day my father was born… March 2nd 2010, that’s the day my father passed. My dad Elan Prystowsky, was the most hard working, caring, funny, awesome person in any way shape or form. Most people take death as a very sad time and as a very serious time. Well, when my father passed I was only ten and my sister was only seven, we didn’t know what cancer was, we didn’t know why he came home once a week and we didn’t know

The Call 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

time I met him it was a hot humid day with the sun blazing down on all four of us in late september. My sister’s face was beaming proudly as she finally introduced us to her new boyfriend as he stepped around the front of his maroon truck. It was just the four of us in the large parking lot next to the quarter mile two story school that lianna and I went to. He was tall, a bit lanky but also muscular. My first impression doesn’t give him much credit to the man he is today but he gave a firm handshake

gut to show it. To many he was just a regular Hispanic dad, but to me… my dad used to be my hero and idol. It was 11 at night when he had arrived. Our only neighbor had brought my intoxicated father home… I was happy that my father was alive and home. At first nothing was wrong, he sat down and began to listen to Mexican music. Blasting the music so that everyone in the house would know he was home. My mother told my father it was time to sleep. He began to yell slurring his words barely understandable

The first time I met him it was a hot, humid day in September with the sun blazing down on all four of us. My sister’s face was beaming proudly as she finally introduced us to her new boyfriend as he stepped around the front of his maroon truck. We stood in the large parking lot next to the quarter mile, two story school that Lianna and I went to. He was tall, a bit lanky but also muscular. My first impression doesn’t give him much credit to the man he is today, but he gave a firm handshake and pretended

Oh, how mistaken my dad was. I remember him looking down at me, he a towering height of 6’6 and I a height of 3’5, telling me that I wasn’t reading. I remember looking down and getting sad and angry, that I thought I was reading. When I was younger, I loved to “read”. By reading, I mean being read to by my parents every night. One of my parents would lay beside me every night on my twin sized day bed. I would snuggle underneath my quilted blanket that my grandmother made for me, and get ready for

I just got back from school, and i finished my homework. It was a stormy night with loud bangs and long strike of lighting. My mom called me for dinner, so i rushed down stairs. At the table there was my brother Josh. He is 14 with dark brown hair with bright blue eyes. He was an average height for his age. Josh was very stuck up and thought he was the best and new everything, but he was a great brother. My mom was a easy going person. She had light brown wavy hair with blue eyes. She was kind of

found out my sister was pregnant with her first my dad, a kind hearted Big Foot with a Buddha belly and a prickly grey beard, would joke around and tease me. “So are you going to be an aunty or an uncle?” “Of course I’m going to be an aunty Dad,” I emphasised in a no-brainer tone. “and I’m going to be the best aunty.” I promised with a heavy sense of finality, hands on my hips, sticking my tongue out at my dad, trying hard not to smile. I arrived at the Armadale Hospital to see my newest and

is their hero. A very important person in my life that has affected me in many ways would be my father. There is so much to know about such a great person. Lance Knight is a mentor, a hard worker, a businessman, an avid ice hockey fan, and a loving dad. Whether he is at home, in the office, or out socializing with friends and family you can always expect a friendly and positive demeanor. My father is one of the most paramount and compelling people in my life due to his love he shares for others,

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. The grass was covered in