Personal Narrative Essay : The Life Of My Father's Life

It's been almost two years since I lost my dad. Today I sit on his birthday writing this and these words are not enough to describe the pain I feel just thinking of him. People always say it gets easier in time and that is true but don't be fooled by the inspirational quotes, the feeling of loss and emptiness never goes away. My dad was a wonderful, kind man who I shared an irreplaceable bond with. He helped me get through the worst moments of my life without even knowing it. He picked me up, he took care of me and was more of a friend than any of the friends I have ever had growing up. Dad was always there praising me, protecting me and defending me against anyone who put me down. Of course like most good fathers, he was overly protective at times and like most teenagers, I had my rebellious moments. He once caught me drunk and didn't say anything as long as I kept my grades up and didn't get in trouble.

Most people would consider having two fathers very lucky, but in my circumstance I have a father and a dad. Although they may seem like the same word or name, they have very different meanings. A father is the man who you are connected to biologically, but does not always support or have a relationship with you. A dad, however, is the man who takes care of you, teaches you right from wrong, is always there for you, and never gives up on you. From the outside looking in I may have two fathers, but in reality I have a father and a dad.

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

One of these days happiness isn’t always going to be your best friend. At times you’ll feel as if you’re chained to the ground. The cold metal chains attached to your hands, and you try to find a way to be set free. Trying to have answers to the problem you are facing. Like me, I have been facing the loss of my father. Trying not to meet the flashbacks in your head, not trying to picture the critical moments. This tragedy event leads me to a dark room. Going to a corner, wrapping myself up, and shedding tears down like a river.

The predicament I am in right now is a blessing, considering the trials I have dealt with in the past. Growing up in inner-city Jacksonville propelled me into the man I am becoming today. Some of the circumstances that many inner-city adolescent youth deal with growing up, such as single-parent households, and inadequate financial stability; automatically dubbed me as a product of my environment. Paving a way for my family is what motivated me the most, and like many teenagers, I felt the task could be strictly achieved by athletics. I had a strong aspiration of playing professional sports, and had varying degrees of success in basketball, and football. Honestly, I was never considered the greatest by my peers, but it was hard to debate my work ethic. Seeing my mother work rigorously day in and day out inspired me. She encouraged me and imparted her knowledge on life’s challenges towards me.

My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.

After moving a countless amount of times, my home does not have a roof and windows. My home has become my biggest motivator- my father. I am one of the few, lucky people to be born into and privileged with such a small, but loving family. Not only has my father provided me with a life I can thrive in, the story of his life in China is what gives me the confidence to pursue a career in the medical field. At his high school, he studied every day for more than nine hours and became the top student, despite the fact that his future in education seemed bleak because of the Cultural Revolution. Getting a higher education was his dream, yet illegal. After succeeding in high school, he was forced by the government to attend a labor camp, where he

"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.

The muffled chokes masked my father's words as he spoke to me over the phone. He struggled to speak, signaling me to leave my dorm room occupied by multiple close friends. The overnight lacrosse camp I was at was on its final day, and the dorms were bustling with excitement and final activities. I was drawn out of this by the despair in my father's voice, I knew what he had to say was serious. The laughter from inside the dorms grew quiet as I shut the iron door of the dorms behind me, stepping out onto the dewy grass and soaking the mid calf socks which covered my sore feet. It was a truly perfect day, as cliche as it is. The sun shone radiantly among the aquatone skies, unobjected by any sign of overcast. The phone grew slippery as clammy

My heart was so fucking heavy watching my girl lay in that coma and the love that Dmitri showed her was just everything. My girl finally had the man she deserved, I was so overjoyed when she came back to us. My mind was set on one thing planning my wedding until my period didn't show up, so here I am pissing on the fucking stick of shame for any unmarried woman. Yes, I knew Redd would take care of our child and yes we were engaged but we were not married and I don't think we are ready for a baby. But if I was pregnant we weren't leaving this island until I had his last name, shit our only family was right here with us. I came out of the bathroom after saying a quick prayer, I picked up a half sleep Lyric and rocked her in my arms, “Shanice

The snow dyed red from blood as my dad laid unresponsive,with a laceration to the head, while I looked at him in shock because I didn’t know what had happened. A minute and a half had gone by and the scene was crowded by a dozen red jackets with reflective white crosses on their backs. About seven minutes later there was no trace that anything had ever happened. I had just witnessed a first response team take my dad down the mountain in a toboggan at the speed of a racer. I realized how if everything had not occurred the way it did I might not have my dad today. Ever since that moment I realized how much I want to help people in distress and possibly save lives. Now I find myself only a few months away from having a cross of my own on my

It's almost been about a week since the incident. Dad's still not over it. I mean seriously, the man died, he died. He was going to die someday, whether it be murder or at a sudden. Dad isn't even related to him in anyway, nor does he know the man. He saw it on the news, and he starts overreacting.

“Izzy, come down here.” “Izzy comes down here,” “Izzy come down here!” I heard my dad shout. “What dad!!?” I hollered I didn't know why my dad called my name three times in the last 2 minutes. I got a coat on and trudged downstairs. I just got home from school and was trying to do my homework. As I opened the door to go into the garage, I took a deep breath and thought that today was not any special day so what is the problem?

June 16th 1964, that’s the day my father was born… March 2nd 2010, that’s the day my father passed. My dad Elan Prystowsky, was the most hard working, caring, funny, awesome person in any way shape or form. Most people take death as a very sad time and as a very serious time. Well, when my father passed I was only ten and my sister was only seven, we didn’t know what cancer was, we didn’t know why he came home once a week and we didn’t know why his head was all of the sudden bald from “treatment”. For a ten year old this is a lot to process, a lot to understand, and most certainly a lot to cope with. Growing up without a father figure in the house has always been tough but everyone has to find a way to manage and a way to adapt to new things.

Everyone is born with a biological father, not necessarily a “dad.” A father essentially has a choice to walk out or give up. Not everyone can be a dad or be a good father figure to their children. It’s up to them if they want to take advantage of their time with you and love you eternally. My Dad is one of the most important and influential people in my life. To you, he is Paul Derosario but to me, he is a loving father, mentor, role model, and a friend. Our relationship is so significant and robust that the bond that we have cannot ingenuously be broken. He motivates me to be a better person, teaches me imperative life lessons, and sacrifices a lot to provide me with a better life.