One of my biggest influences in my life is my own father, Terry Koch. My dad was like a best friend to me when I was growing up. He was incredibly strong, kind and funny. He instilled a lot of the values I have in me today, starting at a young age. Terry was a fighter. He battled with his own body throughout his life. Only later did I find out that he was a sickly child; I thought his illnesses came about later in his lifetime. When I was about nine or ten, he was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis, among a series of other lung-related illnesses. At the time, we lived in Colorado. The altitude didn’t do him any favors and within a month he was on oxygen 24/7. The doctors from Denver told him that he had maybe a year to live. They recommended that we move to somewhere closer to sea level; the air would be easier to breathe if we did. So only a year after completing his lifelong dream of building a “dream house” and moving in, we packed up and moved to Santa Cruz. Yet when we got there, he not only went off oxygen for a while, he ended up toughing it out for another eight years. I was dealing with my own health issues at the time and still fondly remember how we used to say good night. He would always tell me “Feel better for me tomorrow,”. As a sick kid, I would sometimes feel dreary and tell him I wouldn’t. Yet if I tried to ask him to do the same, he would shrug and say he wouldn’t too. He would only match whatever I said that night, from “I’ll try,” to “I will,” making
Click here to unlock this and over one million essaysGet Access
One day my dad came home from work. He looked really upset and didn’t seem like himself. Him and my mom told my brother, sister and I to come to the kitchen because they had bad news. “Kids, your great grandpa was diagnosed with lung cancer yesterday.” My mom told us with watery eyes. “Yeah,” My dad started, “We just found out this morning.” This was very upsetting and depressing news for my family and I to hear, but we all got through it together. We did this by going to see him as much as we could, even thought he lived three hours away from
“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.
My father was a lifeguard, but not in my lifetime, so maybe loving the ocean was in our blood. As children we grew up in Brooklyn and we would go to Riis Park for our day at the beach. One very distinct memory is of my father as he stood waist deep in the ocean with my brother and sister; the waves periodically lifted and dropped them in the water at his side. Waist deep for my father meant it was well over my head so I remained a safe distance (or so I thought) behind them. Suddenly, a wave appeared and and before I could turn and rush to the shoreline the ocean attacked. I found myself in a world of foam, pockets of air allowed me to breathe as I was tossed about like
In 2005, it was 75 degrees in Tampa, Florida and my dad, sister, and I were at the beach. I was only eight years old and I felt relaxed. Growing up in Florida was tough because it was only my dad that took care of us. Every morning he wakes up at 6 A.M, makes his coffee, wakes my sister and I up, makes breakfast, and bring us to day care. Since my mom was not around it was difficult for him, being a single parent trying to make means for his family. Just like in “Aunt Alice vs. Bob Marley,” Kareem Kennedy’s aunt describes her parents as “hard workers.” She said, “Mom didn’t have to work, but she chose to work because she wanted to make sure we had everything. They always made sure we had a decent meal.”
My dad is driving all the way to Minnesota to get a motorcycle. At least, that’s what I thought. He woke me and my brother up and showed us a picture of a motorcycle. To be honest, I thought that was what we were actually getting because we didn’t have any suitcases so it wasn’t a surprise vacation. I didn’t know we were getting a kitten. I did ask for one more than 5 times. My mom did show me a picture of a kitten that was ready to be adopted. Ok, I’m finished talking.
Well, if you'll pardon my saying so, I guess it is interesting, the many ways you and I overlap and whatnot. You begin with our Daddies. Your daddy was a pastor of the New Hope Baptist Church; my daddy was a pastor of a church at Excelsior Springs. Um. You're the youngest of the three James boys; I'm the youngest of the five Ford boys. Between Charley and me, is another brother, Wilbur here, with six letters in his name; between Frank and you was a brother, Robert, also with six letters. Robert is my Christian name. You have blue eyes; I have blue eyes. You're five feet eight inches tall. I'm five feet eight inches tall. Oh me, I must've had a list as long as your nightshirt when I was twelve, but I've lost some curiosities over the years.
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 remember when my Dad and I were at my old house playing catch. After we would finish playing catch he would tell me what I need to work on and help me out. My Dad helps out a lot of people, like his patients. He is a very skilled eye doctor and helps many people everyday. He is also a very good athlete, ever since he was a kid to a grown man.
When I was eight years old, I realized I was slightly different from my dad, but very similar. My dad, and my brother, and I were sitting upstairs in our room and my dad said, “I’m gonna draw something for you guys to guess.” So my brother and I sat there waiting and watched him draw it. My brother and I were interested and what he was drawing and we really liked it. My dad made sure the drawing was well done so we could all guess what it was. He was getting close to the end and me and my brother kept trying to guess it and have fun with it. It took a minute for my brother and I to guess it, but when we finally got it is when I realized I wasn't talented at drawing like my dad and I don't like to draw as much as him. Although I had fun with him, we are very different.
It was Friday and I had a million and one things to do after work. So, as soon as I get out of work, I run to the bank and cash my check and, running back out to my car, jump in and fire it up. Steppenwolf's "Born to be wild" come’s on the radio! It’s a warm and sunny afternoon. Look out highway, I’ve got a hot rod Lincoln, and a license to fly! (Actually, I don’t have either of those, but it sounds good). I turn right out of the bank and hit the asphalt. I’m on my way and quickly hit cruising speed. Nothings going to stop me now… wrong. I am rapidly approaching the rear end of a cherry red El dorado Cadillac and have to slow down to 29 ½ miles per hour. The only visible sign of life in the Cadillac is the bobbing of an old man’s head, who
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
What keeps me up at night is how privileged I am. My father grew up in a very poverty stricken town, Guanajuato. Even though his family owned a great deal of land to cultivate fruits, they were barely able to make ends meet. My Grandma and father would have to wake up at 5 am to walk all the way to the other side of town and then catch a bus to a nearby town, Celaya, to sell what they had harvested. While there, my father would go to a nearby wasteland to find any old toys or clothes others had thrown out. This was a continuous thing until my dad, at the age of 15 decided to come to the United States, with nothing else other than a few extra pairs of raggedy clothes, that he had gotten from the wasteland. My father stayed in Texas to help provide
One summer morning in 2007, I woke up to the news that my father had lost his battle with lung cancer just after one year. Those words were heartbreaking and life-changing. My father was the light of my life and my true best friend. He was a family man, hard-worker, and the best role-model. He was a successful engineer who supported his family to the fullest, and his life had to stop because of a fatal disease. No one can ever replace the bond that my father and I had. It kills me, that the last words he said to me could barely be spoken because the severity of his cancer.