My Dad : The Memories Of Losing A Family

There is one loss in my life that affected many aspects of my life for many years, the divorce of my parents. I was in barley entering the first grade and the tender age of five, soon to turn six, when my parents spent their last night as a married couple. I do not have many memories of my parents as a couple but I do remember the day my Daddy left. He was a policeman and I watched as his cruiser drove away from our family home. I remember my mom crying and not being willing to console me or explain to me what was happening. All I knew is there was a fight, my dad left, it seemed different than other times when he left, and my mom was crying. Everything about my life changed in the blink of a five year old’s eyes which is what makes this loss so significant in my 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

Researchers MacCallum and Golombok (2004) argued that results from previous studies focusing on the loss of a father could not be generalized to children who grew up in households without a father from birth. This is where lesbian mothers and single mothers come into their research, because these families did not necessarily have an absentee father due to family disruption or realignment. For example, lesbians have used assisted conception and/or adoption. In earlier times, lesbian mothers weren’t always allowed these options. Many often lost their children due to the belief that children of homosexuals would have psychological and developmental problems, and at the time, many believed the children of homosexuals would be ostracized,

Growing up, I never fully understood the significance of having my parents around. Seldom did I fully cherish spending time with them, or showed them that I appreciated the things they did for me. I always thought that my relationship and time with them was certain. With this mentality, I never learned to be grateful for my family and the opportunities they’ve given me. Not once had it occurred to me that there was a possibility that at any moment, I could lose them unexpectedly. However, at the age of twelve, the mindset I held with me completely altered, when my father was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia.

Remembering seeing his dad for the last time, Jason flashed back to when he saw his dad's plane take off for Africa. Later that day Jason was watching the news with his mom when he saw that a plane had crashed just off the coast of Africa. Terrified Jason's mom called the airline company to see if that was the flight her husband and Jason's dad was on. With a mournful look on Jason's mom's face she told Jason the horrific news.

My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.

For almost a decade I could not accept the reality of loss. But as time progressed, I learned how to turn a negative experience into a positive one. Although I still have periods of grief, I know my dad lives on in me. Every accomplishment I achieve, I think of him. My father would not want me to be depressed. He would want me to be happy and move on with my life. I view this as the reason why I have the inner strength I do as a young adult. I will never forget my dad and the times we shared. I understand the reality of loss. I learned to appreciate the time I have with those I care about. Time is fragile, we never know when we could lose somebody. Allowing myself to grieve, but trying to find meaning and appreciation in every hardship I faced enabled me to become

Trying to be strong-minded, I asked to go back to school three days after my dad 's death. I remember getting on the bus and everyone 's eyes were on my siblings and I. Life had gone on the same around us, but yet everything in my family 's life had changed drastically. I remember when I first sat down and the girl in front of me named Zoey turned around to speak to me. She was several years younger than I and lacked a filter as so many innocent children do. She looked at me and asked, "How did your dad die?" I remember immediately feeling overheated and while I had been trying hard to act like nothing had changed, I felt that a bus had slammed into me again. I felt sadness the most in my dad 's death; but I also felt a strong sense of

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!”.

Toss in the jeans, a pair of church clothes, a t-shirt, and don’t forget the tooth brush. Another trip to dads is on the horizon. But before I can do that I must make it through 5:30 a.m. basketball practice, a College Biology test, a Government essay, a CTSO Executive lunch meeting, and all the while take care of my fake baby for Child Development.

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.

“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..”

It seemed like I was talking about the same thing over and over but all I could think of were about my feelings. I was only thinking of myself at that moment and not of anyone around me, I was selfish. It was crazy to think that everything was going fine one day and the next day everything turned upside down. I finally understood the news on the television about children of immigrant parents being scared everyday you can possibly think of. I became one of those statistics that they talk about all around. Losing my dad was one of the most hardest things that had happen to me out of all my 18 years of living, and there might be more in the future but this hit me the hardest. I never imagined my dad to be ripped from me and less did I ever to

The hardest time in a person's life is often following the death of a close family member. Death is hard, losing someone you love and see on a daily basis causes great grief and sorrow. For me that special person I lost was my Dad. My father died when I was twelve and it was no doubt the hardest time of my life. Our relationship was indescribable I was his little buddy and we went absolutely everywhere together, and when he died it was like he just disappeared from my life forever. As a young boy you really do not know how to react to such a terrible situation. Neil Ibrahim a father of four dies young and it's just you and your brother left to carry the family name. Throughout the grieving process one learns who really cares about his or hers well being and the upbringing of their children without a father, losing your father makes you more responsible and a more humble person because you are all they left behind.

This section of my life essay is split between what I have faint memories of and what my mother remembers so clearly. I have united the two into one smooth narrative, but it is still a united effort. However, in my mind, I can see perfectly clear the moment we found out that a third airplane had crashed into The Pentagon, where my father was. The sound that came from my mother was not human. She fell from the chair, dirt-caked knees digging deep into the floor, pink shirt already stained with tears. Her blonde, curly hair had clumps of mud in it, and her eyes were so red. Her mouth was open so wide, I feel like I could have looked down and seen her heart. She screamed and screamed, and in his crib my brother started to scream in unison, as