My Father Essay

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

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.

The saying “Don’t take anything for granted” has changed my world completely. This drastic change took place on December 3, 2015. This was one of the most atrocious days I have ever experienced. On December 3, 2015, I lost one of the most important figures in my entire life, and I feel like I took her for granted.

"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.

It has been said that at the end of one's life, no one is wishing their house had been cleaner, worked more hours, had more money, or that they had a bigger television. The thing people most regret at their end of their life, or in reflection of another's passing, is that they withheld

My father died a week ago today. He had a profound impact on the life I live today and on the person I became. The relationship between a son and a father can often be quite complicated. Not so, for me. I was blessed to have a rather simple, yet powerful and loving, relationship with my dad. And because I believe that at Fast Company we have created a community of friends, not mere readers with little connection to our magazine, I want to share the eulogy I delivered at his funeral on Saturday.

I hear the creak of the door as he walks out. The crunch as his boots step on the piles of snow seem to send a shiver up your back. As he gets into his off-colored white car, he waves to us as if it is the last time he might get to see us. When he starts to drive away, you can hear the click, click, click, as his car zooms away. We go back inside and my mom bursts into tears. The tears fall down her face one by one until she manages to calm herself. My dad left. For how long? We had no idea.

Throughout my life there has been a lot of missed opportunities and regrets. One of my biggest regrets was not spending more time with my grandpas before they passed away. One of my grandpas passed away from ALS and the other died of a heart attack. Both of their deaths were 10 months apart and I was only 12 years old.

When I was born, my mom or dad didn’t know what they were gonna name me. My mom never thought if I was gonna be a girl or boy and neither did my dad. They came up with names like James or Bryan, David etc. anyway my dad came up with my name Austin he liked this name. Well, I received my name surprising from Texas the city of Austin. Well, my mom liked it and they agreed on it. Well, I could have thought of many names, but I'm grateful Austin is my name.

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 not to notice when Lianna and I gave McKenna looks of approval, which just added to the reasons to shoot McKenna more looks making her blush.

Over time, there have been several people who have influenced various aspects of my life, based on their personal characteristics, accomplishments, and values. I have been privileged to have had numerous teachers and professors who I respect for their patience and intelligence. There are artists that have inspired me by their natural talents and original creativity. I value many political leaders, who have inspired me by their contributions to society, and their ability to change our futures. Of all the people I have encountered in my life, the person I admire most is my father.

The time in which I was born was very different than the one my parents had to live in when they were children. I was born in a small town in Colombia, where no more than a hundred families lived. The entire population of my hometown was Catholic. There was a small chapel next to my house and the priest went there once a month to celebrate Mass. He and the seminarians stayed at our home, when they went for the Holy Week and Christmas missions. On Saturdays, my brother and I went to a town an hour away afoot or 20 minutes on a horse, to have further studies. Ninety percent of that town’s population were Pentecostal and only 10 % were Catholic. There was a big Pentecostal Church in the middle of the town and a small Catholic church outside the village. My brother and I went to study there on Saturdays because the Pentecostals offered to us a couple of American godparents who sent us gifts twice a year from the US. Nonetheless, to get those gifts we had to attend school on Saturdays, take pictures with the gifts in our hands, and attend the Pentecostal service once a year. During that service, my brother and I laughed the whole time at the people dancing in the church. My aunt, the only Pentecostal member of a family of twelve siblings, got embarrassed for our behavior every time we attended the service.

I was born in Leon, in the Mexican state of Guanajuato, Mexico, on August 15, 1999, at Saint Luis General Hospital. The day of my birth, my father decided to name me Fabian. While growing up in Wisconsin, some people found it difficult to pronounce my name correctly, so my friends shorten it to Fab. My parents moved to Racine in 1999 because a lot of our relatives had already moved to Racine.

I hear the creak of the door as he walks out of the house. The crunch, as his boots stepped on the piles of snow, sent a shiver up my back. As he gets into his off-colored white car, he waves to us as if it is the last time he might get to see us. When he starts to drive away, I hear the click, click, click, as his car zooms away. We go back inside and my mom burst into tears. The tears fall down her face one by one until she manages to calm herself. My dad left. For how long? We had no idea.