My Father's Death In The War

Life is full endless possibilities but in order to make life a little easier is by giving up. Sacrifice is something important or value for the sake of other respect. The sacrifice I had made, was the death of my grandfather. My grandfather was the only person I look up to very closely because he understood me like no other. My grandfather lived in Puerto Rico and since I was six years old, we have done everything that he and I could have possibly think about such as, every night we would go to the beach, the park, the stores and enjoy the night outside in his yard. Our favorite place was just the background of his home because he had roosters and I would always help him feed them. Him and I just sat in the yard and talk for hours about our lives and we made many promises to each other. However, the only issue was that my grandfather lived in Puerto Rico and I lived in New York, so I only got to see him once a year. Sometimes I had to force my mother to let me go to Puerto Rico or for him to come to New York to spend the holidays together. My grandmother would get jealous sometimes because I use to always be with my grandfather, I always dependent on him for everything, but one day he was at the doctors and I didn’t know what was wrong. He tells me everything and I realized he wasn’t ready to tell me that he was dying because he knew I couldn’t handle it and he was right. When I found out he was suffering from lung cancer I started taking care of him and helping

Once there was a girl named Anna. She was a pioneer, and she grew up in Texas, but when she turned twelve her family decided to move to California during the gold rush. She was the second oldest child of three, she had a older brother named Tom and a younger brother named Ted. They wanted to move because of the gold rush of 1849. She was a very busy girl because her mother died after she had her youngest brother three years ago. Anna took the jobs of her mother, cleaning the house, taking care of her youngest brother Ted, curing meat, and making dinner every night. When her dad brought up moving many miles away everyone was scared, but Anna was the most scared. They are not very rich so her father wanted to make money to help his kids grow up and have a better life. “I want my kids to have a good life,” the father said.

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,

I am currently in a situation where I need someone with whom I can share all the traumatic experiences I have been through while fighting as a soldier. I suffered every day I fought at the war front, and the mere thought of you gave me the power to keep going. With each wound on my body, it was with your name on my lips that I was able to endure the pain.

The boy quickly realized he had to go home. Even the workers in his father’s household were far better off. But again he needed to think things through. Maybe he could explain, argue, and excuse himself back into his father’s graces… but no… for once in his life he finally

It was an hour by bike to the docks, not a fun ride when you spent the late afternoon carrying totes of shrimp up a steep gangway. He smelled like fish, plus he only made $50. His mother sent him off to the shower saying he wasn’t bring that smell into her kitchen. A quick shower, dinner then straight to bed. Carl drifted off to sleep thinking about the box of cash he earned so far and the boat he would buy with it when the summer was

She had just gotten home from school. This would usually be the time when she would do her homework while her parents were still at work. But, today would be different. She had just sat down on the couch when she was startled by her mom. “Mom!” She jumped up from the couch. “Why aren’t you at work?”. Her mom’s light green eyes looked fearful, like she was afraid to tell Gabbie the truth. “Honey, I need to tell you something,” she sighed. “We’re moving to Oklahoma.” She braced herself for Gabbie’s response, but she was silent and just stood there for a moment in shock.

Mia walked down the street with her head low, dragging her feet on the concrete pavement. She was on her way home from school. It was her first day of school at her new school. Her dad had gotten a job in America so her and her family had to move. Mia was sad and disappointed to leave her old school and all her friends. She found it hard to make new friends at her new school and was finding it hard to fit in. As she arrived home, her phone started to ring. It was her friend Hailey. Mia had known Hailey since they were in kindergarten and have been best friends ever since. Mia talked to Hailey for hours about her new school and how she missed her and how everything was so different everything was. Mia was glad she still had someone to talk to. It felt good to talk to someone about everything. Once they had hung up Mia went upstairs to start her homework. She found the homework quite hard since she had never learnt any of it. It was different to what she had been taught at her old school but she was sure she would soon get the hang of it.

“We will be back at twelve. Don’t let any strangers in and let the dog out when you can,” said my mother. “Okay. I will, bye. love you.” I said quickly pushing them out the door. “Julia will be home around eleven to get her bag for Raelynn's house,”my mother said as she grabbed her purse. “yes I know. Bye!” I said once more.

My life changed when my cousin was born. I always knew that I loved kids, but I never realized I could love one so much. He is like my little brother, that is now over a thousand miles away. When he was first born, I basically lived with my aunt. Whenever I had some time off of school I would be at their house. Even though I was only 12, when it came to him, I had the responsibility of an adult. When I went to visit them, I would take care of him to give my aunt a break. I would change the diapers, warm the bottles, clean the spit up, and put him back to bed. I felt as though I was taking on the role of the parent for a few hours. He was the first child that I ever truly took care of. Even though I am his cousin, he calls me his auntie. I feel like I have a special bond with him that no one else has. For a long time, I was the only one he would allow to cut his nails. I would do anything for this boy. I was there when he learned to crawl, when he took his first steps, and when he said his first words.

It is astonishing how many experiences we take for granted. We make plans for the day, and don 't think twice about how those plans can be taken away in the blink of an eye. I never thought much about it myself, until I was faced with the shock, and undeniable truth of my father’s death. I don 't think anyone truly contemplates about tragedy until they are actually faced with shocking news.

Now, it was almost two thirty. We only had invited a couple people, and some neighbors. A sound of a car driving by pulled my mind back to reality. ‘’ Is that one of my friends?’’ I asked my dad. ‘’ Mm, no I've seen that car parked in the neighborhood before. ‘’ my dad replied. ‘’Oh. ‘’ I said, a little disappointed. ‘’ Don’t worry, there will be people here soon, it's almost time.” he said reassuringly.

Not long after I had turned seven, my mother had demanded a divorce from my father, but he didn’t want one and started to threaten my mother if she left him. For instance, one morning, I recall my mother arguing with my father about him not being around and always being drunk and high on drugs. My father was going around the house punching walls and throwing picture frames and anything he was able to get his hands on. I remember running into my parent’s room and seeing my mother holding on to my little sister with tears rolling down her face. I immediately went to my mother and wrapped my arms around her leg, holding on to her with what seemed like a death grip, afraid that my father was going to do something to her. I figured if I was there, my father wouldn’t do anything. It wasn’t long after, that my father bolted into the room with a handgun, pointing it in the direction of my mother. To my surprise, the words that came out of my father’s mouth next would haunt me for years to come. My father screamed at the top of his lungs, “Hija de tu puta madre, If you even think of leaving me, I will put a bullet in your head! Y si piensas de hablarle a la policia, a tus hijos le hago lo mismo!” It was then, that I knew my father was capable of not only hurting my mother, but my sister and I as well. That same day, my father left the house and didn’t return for two days. I saw my mother cry for days and noticed how terrified she was when the phone rang. We didn’t know when my father

“Goodbye Daddy”. Those two simple words felt stained to my lips every time I had to say them while growing up. I was raised in a military family, with a father that was never home. My father was in Special Forces so he was constantly deployed for months on end. I think his longest deployment was probably fifteen months, maybe eighteen, I have grown to forget them by now. While growing up, I was never allowed to discuss my father’s circumstances. Not just because of how important and secretive he had to be for his job, but because I emotionally could not do it. One thing I did to keep myself from constantly crying and thinking about my dad being gone was that I put a barrier on my childhood. I would make myself forget things, important things, things my father was never there for. I can hardly remember half of my childhood because of this defense mechanism I unknowingly used while growing up. It was hard on me and it was definitely hard on a family of all girls. I began hating the military because I felt like it had taken my father away from not only me but from my family too. Another thing I did to keep myself emotionally and physically busy was that I began reading books. I was always the top reader of my schools class, no matter what school I went to. When I got to my senior year of high school, I took AP Literature. In this class, with this teacher, I gained my love and support of the military back. Mrs. Herbett was my teachers name and she introduced the book American

It had been a fairly, nice day, and work wasn’t to bad. My boss wasn’t on my tail for not getting him a paper on time. It was supper time when I got home. The food was already set out and the kids at the table when I walked in the door. Jane, 9 years old, had a book in her hand like normal. Billy, 4 years old, sat there picking at his scab. My husband came in with the last plate. Jason had been out of a job for 9 months now, so he was the stay at home mom for a little while. I set my bag down on our wooden table right beside the door. I walked over to the table said hi down and went to finish helping my husband. When we were finished, I sat down to look all of my wonderful family in the eye and see that today was a good day.