Father : My Father Story

Growing up I was extremely close to my father. He was always a tough guy to please, and I aspired to impress him and be the daughter he wanted me to be. Little did I know, my father would end up breaking my heart, and be responsible for tearing my family apart.

“Prove them wrong” When I was in fourth grade my dad and brother and I were playing basketball at our house, to help my brother practice. I had never played basketball except against my brother, Brayden. My dad would always be our referee and it was a lot of fun. Even though I never beat Brayden. Brayden didn’t think I was very good, and he would have to play easy on me instead of playing as well as he could have played. It really annoyed me I wanted to be as good as him or better because I wanted to actually have a chance to be better than him at one sport.

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.

One bright early morning on the field of the 2015 Annual Wiffle Ball Championship laid the bright golden trophy next to the pitcher's mound. The sun glared at the trophy in joy leaving the bright beams of light reflecting into the eyes of the players. As I was on the field I heard the loud smashing voice of the opponent's team line-up harshly told by the coach. By the sound of his voice he seemed determined to win the trophy. I then turned to look at my dad playing 3rd and he said with a soft voice ¨be patient¨. At the time I was eager to get a hold of the wiffle ball. Finally the inning was over. As I went back to

a choked sob escaped my throat as i curled up on the empty bed, the ache in my chest not seeming to calm down. i felt so alone, and so wrong. he wasn't here anymore, and i wasn't able to talk to him. he was the only one who knew that i was transgender, and he seemed to be he only person who could cheer me up when i needed it.

I dashed into the brush to find cover, the rain was pelting on my back. It was my first Boy Scout outing and we were playing a game of capture the flag, but the lightning was coming, we all could see it off in the distance.

I was in like 7th or 8th grade. One night, my mom comes and asks to pack for a night and get my shoes on. I ask her where we’re going. She wouldn’t tell me, so I didn’t get ready to go anywhere. Then my dad comes down and they start arguing. Earlier that day, my dad had drank like 2 beers while me and him were cleaning out our garage. We were going through some cabinets and there were bottles of alcohol in one. My dad took them inside to hide them inside because her and one of her friends had gotten drunk one night and her friend hit his head and fell down his steps. So as he was carrying them inside, my dad dropped one of the bottles and it fell down our step. Luckily it didn’t break. My dad and brother were arguing over something earlier

If there is one thing I have learned in life is that it doesn't take much for someone to be a dad or a mom, but it does take a lot to be a mother and a father. I know this because there are people in this world that call them your dad but that doesn't make them your father, because my dad I always called him dad and he claimed that he was my dad, but then when I was about six I walked into a park and glared at my soon to be step-dad Nick.

My dad and I were in the car going to our my first organized basketball game. My heart was pounding I was already sweating and I was the most nervous I have ever been in my whole entire life!

When I was in, I think 4th grade and I was playing around and I was called to the office and I didn’t know what for. Was it my dad or mom? Was it someone I didn’t know? Was it just my sister? I had no clue what was about to happen.

Everybody in our family likes to do different things to do. For example, my dad enjoys playing soccer with his brothers and wants to have a cookout after. He was born here in Laredo born and raised, and his name is Javier Quiroga Trevino. He works at a trucking company and has been at it for about fifteen years.

My heart was so fucking heavy watching my girl lay in that coma and the love that Dmitri showed her was just everything. My girl finally had the man she deserved, I was so overjoyed when she came back to us. My mind was set on one thing planning my wedding until my period didn't show up, so here I am pissing on the fucking stick of shame for any unmarried woman. Yes, I knew Redd would take care of our child and yes we were engaged but we were not married and I don't think we are ready for a baby. But if I was pregnant we weren't leaving this island until I had his last name, shit our only family was right here with us. I came out of the bathroom after saying a quick prayer, I picked up a half sleep Lyric and rocked her in my arms, “Shanice

Something that happened to me and changed me was the lost of my father. My father was the closest person to me, he was my best friend and the person I used to trust the most. I remember that he took care of me when my mom started college. My mom was most of the time occupied because of Collage but that did not stop her from taking time to be with me. My Dad was sick since he was 15 years old but he refused to treat his disease and when my mom got pregnant, he never said a word about his disease to her. My childhood was really interesting, I never had many friends; the ones I had were always 2 0r 6 years bigger than me. My mom and Dad broke up when I was 9 but I never felt bad about it. They were still friends. They always wanted the best for me. When my mom discovered that my Dad had a disease was the moment everything started being a disaster at home. My mom got really mad at my father and grandma for not telling her anything, but she stayed with my father after everything. When my father went to the Doctor for the first time, he received dialysis treatment to scour the blood of his system, the first time was for a week; my mom went with him and I stayed with my aunt (my father's cousin). I called my dad every night that week and the friday I went back home I started crying when I saw him. I though about a million things. He was so skinny; not healthy skinny. I run into his arms; he hugged me and told me "be careful " and I noticed the catheter in the left side of his

It seems as if every little boy in the world has the wish to become a young man like his father, to grow up and hear the coveted words, “You are your father’s son.” To these such boys, a father is not simply the man who helped give birth to him and not just the man sitting across the supper table. He is a tall statue who deserves to be admired. He is a role model, an idol. My father was that and so much more in my mystified eyes.

Seeing a picture of a man you’ve never met before could give you no feeling at all, but to hear it’s your biological father could be another story. This isn’t an adoption story, because my mother has always been my backbone. My father, on the other hand, is one that is indeed a unique character. When I was a little girl, I would wonder how old he was, what was his favorite color, or even what was his job. When I got older the questions changed. I started to think deeper into why he wasn’t there. Me being an optimistic bubbly little girl, I made excuses for him. “Maybe he was busy,” or “Maybe he wasn’t able to talk to me.” I even got to a point in my life where I began to blame myself. It was my fault he wouldn’t talk to me or come see me. Once I hit that point I was in desperate need of a wake-up call.