My Life Of My Father

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

Hospital in Bronxville New York. I was named after my father and grandfather which made me Manuel Pragana the Third. Having the same name as three other people in my family made it ever tough for us to figure out when someone yelled Manny which one they were trying to get ahold of. I lived the first year of my life with my mother and father in their house in Yonkers where both of them grew up. Soon after my parents found out that they were having my younger brother Antonio they packed me up and bought

with both my parents, I was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of quality time with my father. We used to go out together and play soccer, baseball, and ride bikes. I remember we used to play a lot of old school video games and my mother would get pretty upset at the hours we spent playing and not doing anything productive. In my point of view, our relationship was perfect; our bond was strong like any father and son. I was only four years old when my world was turned upside down. My life changed

Arabia; I was with my father visiting family for the first time in my life. As we got on the tube from the plane and walked towards the terminal, you are hit with that unfamiliar new smell of a country you just arrived, then to my surprise there was a big costume party that everyone are participating in, men in white dresses and red scarves on their heads, and women covered in black sheets from head to toe. I couldn’t believe my eyes that they have costume parties in the airport; is what my seven year old

“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

Songtan, South Korea. Bringing me into this world must have been a tremendous task for my mother because she reminds me often how difficult birthing me was. My mother unconditionally loved me the way I was and bought me a lot of dresses that a princess would wear in a fairy tale book. Also, she encouraged my learning and bought me more than hundreds of books to broaden my insight of the world. However, my father was a traditional, patriarchal Korean man who was immediately ashamed that his first born

I would like to share some things that have made me think of late, mainly of the short comings that I have faced myself, as a father (yes, I have been guilty on occasion), and now Grandfather, although time is on my side to correct this, as my Granddaughter is about to turn 3 years old in December. I went back into baseball last year, to play for the Werribee Giants Baseball Club, after being away from the game for almost 20 years. I was welcomed with open arms and the opportunity to coach was

being the youngest watched my daddy walk out my life like I wasn’t an option. So, the streets became my father. I did everything under the sun, even made my mam cry. I felt like everybody was out to get me. Family became enemies, friends start to envy the streets had got so hot. All my friends start going to jail so only thing was left for me to leave the hood for a while before I become dead or in jail. Now I’m back in Collins, my hometown around whole lot fake people

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

quickly, a whole family can be on the edge of destruction. This is exactly what Raymond Carver describes in his novel “My Father’s Life” from 1984. In his novel, Raymond Carver describes his father’s life, starting with his death and continuing with how he met his wife. The story goes on, telling about their poor life, his alcoholism, gambling and his unfaithfulness. The father is named Clevie Raymond Carver and he is roughly described as a drunkard, who has a hard time