Personal Narrative: My Dad

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

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

“Prove them wrong” When I was in fourth grade my dad and brother and I were playing basketball at our house, to help my brother practice. I had never played basketball except against my brother, Brayden. My dad would always be our referee and it was a lot of fun. Even though I never beat Brayden. Brayden didn’t think I was very good, and he would have to play easy on me instead of playing as well as he could have played. It really annoyed me I wanted to be as good as him or better because I wanted to actually have a chance to be better than him at one sport.

"Victoria! Don't forget to pack, it's your dads weekend." My mom shouted across the hallway in our house. My parents have been divorced since before I was born so every time my father was in town I'd visit him. When I was younger, I would always ask my dad if I could spend the night at my cousins house since they were from his side of his family and that was the only time I could see them. Afterwards it became a routine going over to their house, little by little I hated going there but I was left in silence. One night, my cousin Emily went out with her friends and I was left to sleep alone in her room. As I was slowly falling asleep, I heard the door creek open and quietly shut closed... I quickly awaken, my heart beats as if it is about to pop out of my chest, I weep as movements get closer and he says "shhh.." There he was, beside me gliding his fingers down my belly to places his hands shouldn't be.

“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

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.

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.

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.

It was the spring of 2013. My mom took me out of school early that day because we needed to get driving to Dike, Iowa. Since my sister is also a volleyball player, she has state that same weekend, but not in the same place. However, the sophomores were at the same place we were. Anyhow, my sister drove with my mom to the hotel her team was staying at, and I drove with my dad. I’m a lot like my dad so I get ready pretty quickly and I only pack what’s needed. When I got home, it took me about five minutes to get ready since I packed my bag the day before. On the other hand, my mom had to take at least half an hour to “fix” her makeup and her hair, and my sister took about forty-five minutes just to pack her bag! Anyways, my dad and I made it

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.

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

As we pulled away from the city in our small family car, my mind had run away with my thoughts. I was staring blankly at the nothingness of the grey skies. The more I stared, the more I was taken into a swirling trance. Nothing made sense anymore. We were moving on so quickly and everyone seemed to be oblivious to the deaths that had terrorized our town over the past few months. No one seemed to notice; no one seemed to care. Dad wasn't the same anymore. He never just packs up and leaves. He hates change.

What keeps me up at night is how privileged I am. My father grew up in a very poverty stricken town, Guanajuato. Even though his family owned a great deal of land to cultivate fruits, they were barely able to make ends meet. My Grandma and father would have to wake up at 5 am to walk all the way to the other side of town and then catch a bus to a nearby town, Celaya, to sell what they had harvested. While there, my father would go to a nearby wasteland to find any old toys or clothes others had thrown out. This was a continuous thing until my dad, at the age of 15 decided to come to the United States, with nothing else other than a few extra pairs of raggedy clothes, that he had gotten from the wasteland. My father stayed in Texas to help provide