Remembering My Father : The First Day Of My Father

What I learned and understood about my father through conversations with my older siblings was about the impact of the loss of my grandfather (my father’s father) at an early age, heavy responsibilities taken on at an early age (hardship of the Depression era) to help support his mother and younger siblings. This led him to a strong sense of responsibility and a deep faith. But it all made him seem emotionally unavailable. The hard times for black families dealing with racial discrimination and the horrors of Jim Crow led to strictness that he, in all likelihood, felt was necessary for the survival of his children. There simply was no place for lighthearted fun. This greater understanding led to a stronger connection with my father, and an appreciation for such things as his devotion to having taken care of his family, his integrity, compassion for those less fortunate than himself, and the commitment as a deacon and Sunday school teacher.

That day I realized I wasn’t as special as I thought I was. I was an accident, a big mistake. I soon realized my mom never graduated from High School and that she could be sent back to Mexico at any moment. My dad, on the other hand, graduated from high school and after I was born he got his associates degree in some type of engineering. My dad’s degree was my families advantage. Even with his degree, my mom is still my idol. She is the toughest person I know. She worked two 8 hour shifts when my dad went to school, she never cared what might happen to her as long as my siblings and I were happy. She walks with honor and pride even when people tried to bring her down, and trust me they tried. They used me as the trigger. I am the reason she never made it to

Honestly, both my mom and I--whenever we watch you--I know you haven't done all the plastic surgery stuff, but you look incredible. And I know it's not just the physical. You have lots of joy and happiness with what you're doing, and you have that inner light that radiates out.

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.

Hello Eric. I am reaching out to you today because I spoke with Anissa's father a few weeks ago, and his words are lingering with me. First and foremost, I want start off by saying that I have nothing against you as an individual, but I do have something against the way my daughter and grandson are being treated. It is not about me liking or disliking you because Anissa is going do what Anissa wants to do regardless of how I may feel, she's grown but being her mother and to see my story playing out for her too, I don't appreciate it. You left my daughter pregnant and alone for nine whole months. She worked from beginning to end, she didn't have to work because my husband and I were already working three jobs to make sure for her and Gabriel's arrival, all she had to do was

The moment I realized that my dad was not going to be in my life was when I wrote him “that letter.” My dad had went to jail, and at that time I still fought for my relationship with my dad. In the letter I basically informed him that everything was going to be alright. God was going to bring him out of every situation, and many more words of encouragement. Our relationship had been somewhat okay, I visited him in jail and of course you know how things go with certain people. They tell you that whenever they get out, they’re going to be a better person, he’s going to continuously be a part of me and my brothers lives. So what do you think happened? That shit never happened. I think that’s what had hurt the most. Because I literally gave so much into that letter, and for you to continuously lie to me and tell me that you’re going to do something and you don’t is pretty fucked up. Because even when people were beginning to give up on him, I was the only one being positive and trying to give him a chance and be there for him. I just don’t understand how you can just look someone in the face and feed them all this bullshit and then you don’t make the effort to make anything happen. But I guess that’s why it’s called

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,

Walking the halls at school was an overall awkward situation as I attended a predominantly white private school. It was not uncommon for my peers to make jests and snide comments about the oddity of our relationship. I vividly remember the stunned expressions on the faces of my parents and siblings as I explained that my new boyfriend was not white. While my family was accepting of the news, I was warned to not mention my new relationship to my grandfather who would not be quite as understanding as he would only be blinded by his outdated and old fashioned state of mind. Meeting my boyfriend's parents for the first time was unnerving to say the least. I felt like an exhibit at a museum, being observed and analyzed by a group of people who no doubt had already made their own assumptions of my character. I could see from the skeptical look in their eyes that I was nothing more than a vapid and privileged white girl to them. All of these outward opposing forces undoubtedly created friction within the relationship. I found myself questioning if our racial differences were forcing a wedge between our families and friends or if the relationship was worth the criticism we faced. A few short months later, we called it quits, although not entirely due to the racial

For this writing assignment, I wanted to interview someone who is very close to me so I decided to call my dad on April 15th 2016. He has always been very important in my life. Being black and living in the south, I was always told about how blessed I am to be living in a time where racism isn’t as prominent as it was sixty to seventy years ago. With that being said, let me introduce to you my father. He was born in Oxford North Carolina on October 28th 1951. He was born and raised on a tobacco farm, which was passed down from his grandfather to his father. My dad then moved from North Carolina when he was three to Augusta, Georgia.

When I was growing up, the only family I had was my mom and her side of the family. My father was not a big part of my life at that point in time, and our relationship has suffered because of it. For the first four years of my life, my father was an active member of the Marine Corps. His absence in my life impacted our relationship since we never had a chance to connect, and I don 't think we ever recovered from that. We’re on good terms now, but we don’t have any special connection like my mom and I do. The two of us were never close, we never see eye to eye, and we can barely hold a conversation that lasts longer than five minutes.

I am going to tell you about my brother, Jacob & what he has went through as a child and even now. As a child Jacob has gone through so much, and to me it’s truly unbelievable. When Jacob was first born, the doctors knew that there was something seriously wrong with him. He couldn’t breathe, so the doctors stuck a breathing tube down his throat but instead of it going down his esophagus it went down his trachea. Putting it down his trachea made everything worse, because he had to be lifeflighted to Hershey for an emergency heart surgery, and this was when he was first born. Jacob’s first heart surgery took 6 hours, 6 hours of waiting and making sure Jacob is gonna make it. The doctors never thought Jacob would’ve made it, and neither did my

Growing up in a home 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 the day that my mom and my dad separated, I felt alone. The process of a divorce was too much for a child that age to handle; it was a hard time for me. Although I had no father figure for about 12 years because my dad moved

I don’t think that my dad knows how much I really do appreciate him and everything that he has done for me. My dad has been there for me every step of the way. From teaching me the essentials like walking and talking to just the simple joys in life like riding a bike and driving a car. Every step of the way he was right there telling me how proud he was. To some those are just simple words but to me they mean so much more. The one thing I want in life is to make my parents proud and to never disappoint them. But what my dad doesn’t know is how proud I am of him. I’m proud of how he puts family first, always. I can always count on my Dad to be there at everything I do. I’m proud of his sense of humor, and how he lifts the spirits of those around him; how he can lift the spirits of our family when times are tough. My dad did not have the easiest childhood, he lost his mother as a teenager and grew up with just a father but still today he is one of the happiest most joyful hearted men I know and for that I am proud. I’m proud to tell you that he took the time every night when

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

The hardest time in a person's life is often following the death of a close family member. Death is hard, losing someone you love and see on a daily basis causes great grief and sorrow. For me that special person I lost was my Dad. My father died when I was twelve and it was no doubt the hardest time of my life. Our relationship was indescribable I was his little buddy and we went absolutely everywhere together, and when he died it was like he just disappeared from my life forever. As a young boy you really do not know how to react to such a terrible situation. Neil Ibrahim a father of four dies young and it's just you and your brother left to carry the family name. Throughout the grieving process one learns who really cares about his or hers well being and the upbringing of their children without a father, losing your father makes you more responsible and a more humble person because you are all they left behind.