Personal Narrative: My Dad

The person in the book with whom I identify the most is Philip. My life is not like Philip’s after 9/11 and Wisconsin, but before that time, we have a lot in common. Philip and I live on the east coast. Philip lived in Princeton; whereas, I live in Delaware. My Dad and Mom both graduated from elite colleges. Dad graduated from IIT, Indian Institute of Technology, the best engineering school in India. My Mom graduated from Miranda University, one of the top women’s colleges in India. Joel and Amanda, Philip’s parents, both graduated from Harvard. After I was born, Mom quit her job and became a house mom. She drives me and takes care of me whenever I needed help. This was also true with Amanda as she “… quit her job and poured all her energy

I once read a book about a guy who believes that everyone gets a tragedy at some point in their life. I never thought this could be true, because some people have great lives, and even if they do not how would they decide what the single hardest moment was? Recently my father passed away, and I realized you do not get to decide, you just know. This had been the hardest point in my life, however, the same book taught me that good things can come out of any bad experience if you look for them. Before I could see that I had to deal with many things, such as realizing he was really gone, going to his funeral, and going back to school. I also had to cope with the fact that I would never have the chance to change the relationship I

you lived a perfect live, worked hard througout school and been a faithful christian you whole life. you were respectful and grateful as a kid and never took anything for granted. you have worked your whole adult life on being the perfect father and dont think you could have done any better. you read the scripture every day and work extremely hard to provide for our family. you never yell or raise you voice and always keep your cool. you manage to bring scripture into punishing us. you struggled early on in your marraige just to put aside money to put us through college. i have done nothing to deserve it. you have been the perfect husband to mom. never fighting and always compromising to make her feel like she should feel. you are so

“So—dad.” Arlene called him dad. Stacey always would be her dad. “I know you and Arlen are itching to see each other, but if you get a chance, I was wondering if you two would discuss something. Arlen and I talked, and we have both been wondering when you’re finally going to decide to move back east. The reason I’m bringing this up is that I my fiancee Jim has been twisting my arm to get married. He even went so far as to mention to mom how nice it would be if he and I got married in Las Vegas. I tried stalling him a while ago by saying I wasn't interested in any big fanfare. He hatched another angle, because he knew Las Vegas is just a hop, skip, and a jump from where you are in California. He was figuring mom would jump at the idea to help

It was a normal day Brayden, Seth and I just got done with basketball practice. We were wondering if we had plans for the remainder of the day.

In their infinite wisdom, NAU have scheduled my health insurance payment for January-May, my “course fees” for the spring term and my first rent and meal plan payments for a week before I get my Student Finance money through. Chloe and I are going to go to the finance office on Monday, explain the situation to them and hope that we can be granted an extension. However, given all the financial guarantees we made to NAU before coming here, neither of us are holding our breaths for leniency (especially not Chloe - we have to the cardiologists today to try and get that sorted). I’m just giving you the heads up in case I need to borrow some money until the loan/grant come through.

My step dad has always been weird about how me and my mom get along. Everytime we bond he gets so mad and it is not healthy. He is always trying to put us against each other, trying to make my mom seem like the bad person when I get in trouble or making me look bad infront of my mom. Saying things like my mom being the one who influences him on getting me in trouble or that I am being rude to him and he lies his way into trying to convince us. He invents his own lies and lives in them himself. One day my parents got into an intense argument that led my step dad to kick my mom and I out of the house. At that moment I did not have time to be a child, instead I stood by her and helped her refocus. That morning I had a tie dye shirt drying in the

“Ya son las Cinco y media,” is what my dad would say to me everyday during summer. We would go up to Redlands to this avocado groove to pick avocados. Under the big, tall, leafy trees we would work until our bodies couldn't take it anymore and needed a break. We would work under the hot scorching sun, our faces dripping in sweat until 3:30. I would always get home tired knowing the same thing was waiting for me the next day.

If there was one thing that my father made sure I experienced from a young age, it was hard work. When he first traveled to this country, the only thing to his name was his suitcase and a handful of money. Shortly after when I was born, he worked from the ground up to ensure I had a good upbringing. When I graduated high school, he didn't have the money to send me to college, and I didn't want to be snared by student loans, so I had to find another way. I wanted to work for everything that I earned, so I joined the military.

Toss in the jeans, a pair of church clothes, a t-shirt, and don’t forget the tooth brush. Another trip to dads is on the horizon. But before I can do that I must make it through 5:30 a.m. basketball practice, a College Biology test, a Government essay, a CTSO Executive lunch meeting, and all the while take care of my fake baby for Child Development.

My dad was an alcoholic all my memories consisted of me coming home from my babysitters or school, he would be drunk passed out on the couch with beer bottles everywhere, and nascar on the television.

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

My life is very common with the story I tracked my phone my dad’s phone my mom’s phone and my sisters phone. Some of the story is very similar and some of it is not similar at all.

“La la la!” I was running around my room dancing to Kidz Bop on Pandora. My blonde hair half up half down.

I grew up being the first ever kid to “not have a dad.” My classmates questioned me in ignorance, wondering how I was ever created without a father of my own. This is because I was taught by those around me, at the young age of six, to always reply “I don’t have one,” when asked, “Where’s your dad?”