No Real Verbal Love And Emotional Relationship

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

It was typical. We prayed and everything was the same. When returning from the mosque my father received a call announcing the death of his brother, my uncle. He hung up the phone and told us the news. We were too young to understand of course. Unshaken, he kept on driving till we got home, the ride was different, no one talked. When he told my mother the news she broke out into tears immediately. Unscathed, he called the relatives and told them what had happened. He seemed to understand the idea of death all too well. His facial expression was saying ‘don't let this loss shake up’. Like Clint I don't to see a less intimidating side of my father, for it was that got us

During my childhood my mother and father expected me, my brother and two sisters to be respectful, obedient and polite. They set a conservative tone for our house that was not as strict as a boarding school, but there were similarities. Now that is not to say they beat us, or were mean, in fact they loved us very much but the love was shown from a specific distance. We talked, we laughed, but we never talked loudly, and we never laughed too much. I can remember hugging my dad, but it was when I was pretty little. I guess he felt that I was a boy, and as such I had to stand on my own. My only problem was he worked so much I never really learned how to stand on my own as a man. He never taught me how to defend myself. My mom always told me to walk away from a fight, problem is kids don’t view the world as adults, and the kid looking to avoid a fight probably didn’t know how to fight, and that was just too tempting a target to pass up. After we mover to Cerritos it was different, my relationship with my dad changed. He was getting home after work on time, he was around in the evenings and on weekends. I could see he was more relaxed, under less stress than he had been before and it was great! We started doing things together more regularly. We went deep sea fishing 4 or 5 times a year, we went to science fairs, hobby shops and down to the local harbors and checked out sail boats. I was getting to know him, where he came from,

We had always been together in the same classroom up until the fourth grade, so we spent a lot of time together. We would sit next to each other in class since our names were alphabetically next to each other. Then when we got home we would go play outside and play around or go mess around with our other siblings together. We enjoyed being together because we felt like we knew each other better than anyone else knew us. I was about to tell him how I felt about anything and everything. I remember at a young age, having such a low-self esteem, the value or worth people attach to themselves, about myself (Rathus, 2010). It seemed as if my mother was always putting all of my other siblings and caring about them before me. Like they were way more important than I was. Like if we’re working on homework, she would attend to them first, and after everyone got theirs done it was my turn. Even when it came to dinner it was the same way and they always got served first or got to choose what they wanted to have for dinner but I never did. Being the youngest, it always seemed like my voice didn’t matter and that had a tendency to make me feel bad about myself. Also, knowing my parents divorced a couple of

Language through rhetorical discourse does something and something was what I needed to do (Wardle and Downs 348). I’m not one to share my feelings or show much emotion towards people or situations. However, if I were to, I’ll put it in writing, whether it’s a text message or letter, just so I don’t have to show it or say it aloud and I’ve always been this way.

Even though my mother was affectionate, my father was quite different in terms of sensitivity. He was active duty military for most of my early childhood; so, I barely was able to see him. However, whenever he retired, I was so excited, because I was hopeful that we could catch up emotionally. Although I was hopeful, my father became fairly distant and showed signs of insensitivity whenever I expressed any concerns to him. For example, I was crying because I fell down the stairs, and my dad just told me to wait until my mom got home so she could comfort me. It was as if he did know what to do. This did not mean that my father was completely insensitive; but, he did possess low levels. I was glad that my mother was more amorous because I was able to cling to her for emotional support and outstanding sensitivity.

The next morning, I was dropped off at what at the time we called “dad’s house”. He was making breakfast. Burnt eggs and burnt bacon with probably expired milk. I always graded him with and A for effort. He explained to us that every other day and every other weekend will be spent with our mom. I questioned whether or not that was he wanted, his tone was disappointed. Did he want to see us less? Or more? Or not want our mom to see

He does not see that connection of I want to be just like my dad or any kind of connection in general. They went without talking or seeing each other for three and that is not normal for a dad and son. A lot of people in real life have bad relationship with their parents and that is sad. The second quote that I chose to explain

I turned from the computer to my dad. He proceeded to give me the same speech that he had given me so many times in middle school. But this time, I wasn't phased at all. Instead of defending myself, I respectfully listened. When he was done talking, I told him that living comfortably didn’t matter to me and that I wanted to work in a field that I truly loved and enjoyed. He was stunned. Later that week, I was working on homework one evening when he knocked on my bedroom door.

It has been one year since the death of my beloved sister Cheryl. Since then, Roger and I have married. It was wonderful! All the people we met last year were there; all the friends I made at my job as a receptionist. Cheryl’s friend Nancy and her mother came and they hired a babysitter for Cheryl’s son Henry Liberty. But, most surprisingly, my father was there for a bit! He started by saying that he was sorry about what had happened my whole life and how he should of tried to get us back. Then, I told him that I know it was for the best and that we should not cling to the past, even though I did that my whole life. Essentially I was being hypocritical. Nonetheless, he said that he was proud of me, and that if my mother was alive she would

Almost as if he had read my thoughts, my dad said the simplest and most gracious thing, something that I had wanted to hear for the last 12 years of my life:

In this passage, Paul is stating about an astonishing level of selfishness. How does a person reach this level of selfishness? This is due to lack of natural affections. When a person loses natural affections, he only cares for his own pleasure. Hence, he has no room for the love for another person. He is not even able to love his own children.

Then, he told me a story of a time when I was little. When I was four years old, my dad would go on business trips often. Whenever he would leave, I would always try to stop him by hiding his suitcase, his car keys, and his shoes. Then I would grab his legs thinking I could prevent him for leaving. I didn't know why he would leave and I thought he was going on vacation every month. I wanted to go with him and would try to stop him. He explained to me that he was working in different offices and then I gave him his stuff back. After that day I never stopped him from going anywhere. I

My dad has proved he loves me in every way he possibly could. He has spent all the time with us that the clock would allow him. One of my favorite childhood memories of him spending his leisure time was at his brown, 2 bedroom apartment. It was small but homey. It was evening and I was wearing a t-shirt that went to my knees as sleep wear. Sounds of the Florida toads croaking and crickets chirping surrounded me. The air smelled of a delicious aroma of fire and smoke, because we roasted marshmallows, suburb style, on the grill. He usually lets me make my own decisions unless he thinks that the decision will lead me in the wrong direction. From kindergarten to 12th grade, he has been involved in my school projects. Like when he came to school to videotape me erupt my clay volcano and read my report. Or when he stayed up all night studying with me for the high school tests. Most of the time he is patient with me even though I have the tendency to stress him out. For example, when I need to clean my room, but choose to hang out with friends. He used to bring valentines gifts to the school that would make me feel extra special. The gifts he brought were a fake purple jeweled bracelet and balloons. Even as a child grows older they need affection. He shows affection by telling me he loves me, giving me hugs, and giving kisses. To make a long story short, he acquires all the characteristics of

Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was