Lessons From My Father By Dennis Grimard

The poem “Mothers and Daughters” is written by Pat Mora. Pat Mora is a contemporary award winning writer, who writes for children, youngsters and adults. She was born in El Paso, TX in the year 1942. She attains a title of a Hispanic writer; however, the most of her poems are in English. In her literary work, one can observe the different aspects of the immigrants’ lives such as language issues, family relationships, immigrants’ experiences and cultural differences (1187).

Second competitions terrify me. As soon as people have expectations of my performance, my mind convinces me I will fail. So, I just quit. Why? I have a paralyzing fear of failure. My friends assume telling me, “just don’t be afraid!” will help, but just like telling them “stop fearing spiders!” does not work, neither does this. In 1960, psychologist John Atkinson discovered atychiphobia, the irrational fear of failure that holds back an individual so strongly they refuse to try anything they cannot assure their success on. Many who suffer from atychiphobia have careers well beneath their intelligence level because they cannot challenge themselves. However, as a teenager, I have accomplished what many people living with atychiphobia have not: I learned how to beat it.

Recently I read the book How Children Succeed, by Paul Tough. This book had five main sections. These sections included How To Fail (And How Not To Fail), How To Build Character, How To Think, How To Succeed, and A Better Path. In each of the five sections the book talked about many different points. Each point had a number. These numbers would go through about one to seventeen per each section of the book. Along with giving a summary of the book I will analyze it. We will start with section one, How To Fail (And How Not To).

In chapter 1 of part 1, we are introduced to our main characters Sammy Klayman and Josef Klaver. The chapter starts off with Sam reminiscing about his career and early life. Joseph comes in to the story when Sam’s mom makes him share his bed. Josef reveals that he is an artist and asks Sam for help to get a job at the Eagle. The two slowly start talking and Josef reveals that his family didn’t make it out of Prague.

“…As your father used to say, we shared the longest ride together, this thing called life, and mine has been filled with joy because of you.”

When I think back to the time when I was little, as sad as it sounds, I can’t remember my father’s face clearly. I cannot remember what he looked like, or how young he was. When I think back to the time when I was little, I cannot remember much memories. I cannot seem to remember much happy memories with him. When I think back to the time I was little, I cannot remember of what I would do with my father. I cannot seem to remember how I spent my days with him. My father’s name is Jeoung-Woo Seo. He was born in Gwangmyeong, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea and he was born on April 6, 1969. My father is currently forty-eight years old. He is 5’6 with salt and pepper hair. He wears glasses and has a little sour expression as his resting face.

What can last a lifetime? Everyone gets old right? Sooner or later people you love and cherish won't be there for you. No matter what we look like or where we come from all of us have thoughts and feelings, thus it’s heartbreaking watching the one you care to go. Writers create universal themes owing to the fact that they are what tie us together, emotionally and physically.

His stories range from fishing mishaps to radio contests “wins”. Each one when told makes my day just a bit brighter. I hadn’t learned until recently that most of my father's stories had a lesson that could be taken out of the story. Much like how many books have themes, my father's stories had lessons that my siblings and I learned from. Sometimes the lessons would be to work hard or studying is important, but most of the times his stories were just reminders of not just his childhood adventure, but also to remind us that determination can get you out of a life of poverty to a life of

In The Eagle Watchers Society, Able reflects on his childhood when he watched eagles and captured them with his group. This moment is notably important to him because he sees himself as one of the eagles flying around. He sees a free eagle, roaming with complete freedom, in which is symbolic to his idea of freedom towards his own life.

When you think of family love, you probably think of a nice loving family, one that gets you presents for your birthday or a special occasion. My family isn't like that, my step-father is out doing other women, my mother is drinking the liquor store dry, and a snobby step-sister too. I do all the chores in the house I do the laundry, wash dishes, make food and clean my house and guess what, that's what I do everyday.

The eagle metaphor shows the process that Michael had to go through in order to fulfill his real quest that summer, not entirely his monetary needs, but the need to find courage to break away from his parents. The eagle sat in Denny's arms without fighting back. An eagle is an animal that is known to have a fierce and upfront personality.

The poems “Advice to My Son” by J. Peter Meinke and “Daddy” by Sylvia Plath are the closest to polar opposites in regards to father figures. The father in “Advice to My Son” seems to be very loving and concerned about his sons future, while the father in “Daddy” is quite the opposite. Sylvia Plath paints her father in a very evil, overbearing light. Her words ooze with disdain and hate for her father. The juxtaposition of these two poems shine light on the authors personal relationship with their fathers.

My father’s story starts from humble beginnings. His earliest memory was of gunfire from a firefight between American G.Is and Viet Cong guerrilla forces. His father, my grandfather, who was a Captain in the South Vietnamese forces was imprisoned for 2 years due to ‘treason’ against the communist regime. Which in turn meant that all members of the family were denied the right to higher education by the regime and were closely watched by the government. Furthermore, being born as the 12th child in a family of 13, my dad was never destined to be special nor was he even allowed to by outside influences. However, that all changed when my grandfather, bless his soul, escaped Vietnam and left for the United States.

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.

Complete anguish filled my husband 's face as he thrust his shovel into the orange, brown clay. He and his brother scooped the freshly dug earth, flinging it over the plain wooden box that held their brother 's ashes. I wiped my eyes, my heart breaking for not only my husband and his brother, but especially for my father-in-law.