The Importance Of My Father In My Life

One of the best stories about my dad is when my dad saved his best friend's life. When my dad was younger, he and his buddy Sam were at a golf tournament, and were drunk and rode ATVs in the woods. When Sam stood up and smacked his head on a tree branch, and my dad threw him in the back of the truck, and rushed him to the hospital. If it were not for that Sam would no longer be here, so my dad saved his life, so all this happening to my dad was really hard on Sam because there was nothing he could do to help my dad like he helped Sam. People would go and get food for one another, support each other. We did not know how long this surgery would take no one told us other than six hours, but six hours passed and no one came out and told us anything, so we were very curious about why no one was coming to tell us anything.

I have very fond memories of my dad. One of the best memories I have with my dad was when we went to watch the new fast and furious movie. We went to the Cinema Carousel

While I was still little I didn’t quite understand why he had to be so far away. He would come down to visit once a year, I used to be so happy to see him. He would always bring me gifts and money every time he came home. Every year when he came home for a little while we used to stay at my uncle’s house, it was always fun. Me and my dad would always

My dad has always been a great person in my eyes. When I was little, my mom was gone in the mornings at work, leaving my dad to do our hair for school. I remember how much effort he would put in trying to put my hair up in a ponytail. He would try so hard and get so frustrated every time strands of my hair would fall loose from his hand, but he´d still attempt again and spray a bunch of that suave kids detangler over my head till my hair was fully soaked again. He eventually gave up on the ponytail and instead sprayed more of that detangler on my hair and brushed it down. I never complained but only giggled till I saw him smile back at me. Every morning after that first morning, he´d still attempt the ponytail, but I always ended up walking out of the house with my hair down soaked with that suave detangler and I loved it because as simple as my hair looked down, it was done by my dad.

Whenever something was wrong with our house, my dad would be the one to fix it instead of calling a plumber. Last year my father lost his thumb and index finger when he was working on a house that belong to one his brothers. Even after being permanently injured, my father continued to apply all of his effort into fixing houses up to this point. My father didn’t have an education higher than High School but through his actions, my father taught me that by having a goal or someone to support, anything could be achieved. He motivated me to do my best even when things weren’t going as I planned. My father wasn’t the only one doing his best to support the family, my mother

Growing up without my dad was really difficult. Showing up to school when I was little on father's day without someone to celebrate it. It made me feel like I did not matter. On career day, when my dad should have been the one to show up, no one did. Even my Little League games,

When I was about 6 years old, I learned that my dad was adopted and that none of my relatives where blood related. Knowing this caused nothing to change as I could not help but love them and to me they would always be my family. I was especially fond of my adoptive grandpa because he was so openly affectionate and loving with all his grandchildren and in his eyes I was no different. I felt so safe in his arms and loved playing my days away with him as he was who would take care of me after school. He was the person I loved most and the person that I most wanted to be like. Life without him was not worth living and I could not picture such a bright light disappearing from my life. He helped me through my darkest times which were mostly composed of my alcoholic dad beating my mom and us and us fleeing in the darkness of the night. My dad seemed to fear nothing and no one, but my grandpa seemed to be his kryptonite. No matter how bad things were my grandpa always came to our rescue and my father would not dare even be in the same room as my grandpa when he was in that condition. My father knew better and wouldn’t even dare disrespect my grandpa by barging in and raising hell.

I believe that having a relationship that changes your life or changes the way you think or do something is very valuable. Having that kind of relationship with my father is very impactful on my life. All the positive aspects of our relationship comes to my mind. Reflecting on our relationship, many stories are emphasized in our relationship; stories that were impacting and made me who I am to this moment. My dad is a business owner, builder, ex-skater, drum player, video gamer, soccer player, loving husband and father, and a faithful servant to our Lord, Jesus Christ. So being able to relate to my dad is very easy to me, for I share many of those talents and hobbies. As the oldest son in the family I didn't really have anyone to look up to or strive to be like a certain person that was close to my age. That led me to walk in my dad’s footsteps. Watching my dad give glory to God for all that he has given to our family was truly incredible to me. My dad’s work rate, his ability to help others when they need it most, his ability to get tasks done thoroughly was amazing to me. I truly know that he is a wonderful role model for me. Three stories come to mind when I think of my dad. He taught me various things in every one, they are: to listen to God when you struggle, to work hard and finish things well, and to love others even when we dislike their motives or actions.

Where I have come from goes back generations for me, where I am from is based off of what my family has gone through and how they have used their experience to teach me. Through my family I now understand that where I come from means the way my parents raised me and why. One very important figure in my life who makes me who I am is my dad. My dad has been through a lot of good and bad times in his life, he has many experiences some in which I hope to recreate for myself and others I would only hope I would never have to go through. Talking to has given me specific experiences that when I look back at have really changed me and prove to me where I am from. Another person who has given me experiences that have helped me learn where I am from

Within our family we each have our own roles; my father’s role is that of the Bread Winner and he plays his role as the emotionally strong or hard member of the family. My father is not the kind of man who refuses to cry, but does consider decisions and parenting in a very logical manner, not allowing for emotions to play a large role in the process. My mother also works and is a teacher because she enjoys it. However, my mother is not the bread winner because she makes significantly less than my father and works because she wants to not because she needs to. My mother’s primary roles have been Caregiver, mediator, and the role of Switchboard, or the person who knows about everything that is going on within our family at a given time. My mother is the mediator between my brothers and my dad, which has played into her role as the Nurturer in our family, providing emotional support to me and my brothers and encouraging our emotional development.

When I was younger my dad meant everything to me. He was my best friend, and who I ran to when I needed someone to talk to. Every saturday morning he would wake me up and we would get McDonalds for breakfast, and drive all around, looking at antique stores and garage sales. Some of the best memories of my dad came on these rainy Saturday mornings, or when he would wake me up when it first snowed, or on accident when he was putting the Christmas tree together with a power drill. Him and I were inseparable, and he would always let me help him when he was fixing up one of his motorcycles or one of the many cars he worked on. But the bond between him and his bike was more than ours apparently.

On the 15th of February, 1986, I was born Yuri Choe in Songtan, South Korea. Bringing me into this world must have been a tremendous task for my mother because she reminds me often how difficult birthing me was. My mother unconditionally loved me the way I was and bought me a lot of dresses that a princess would wear in a fairy tale book. Also, she encouraged my learning and bought me more than hundreds of books to broaden my insight of the world. However, my father was a traditional, patriarchal Korean man who was immediately ashamed that his first born child was a girl instead of the preferred boy. He believed that women do not need higher education but they were born to support men and for domestic work. In fact, he did not like my mother spending money for my appearance or education. Also, he often disagreed with mother on almost everything. Reflecting on my childhood, I feel my parents lived together in the same apartment but in two different worlds. My father was frequently absent and my mother worked every day in a city far away. As the family pressures grew, my father became more violent toward my mother and me. As a result, when I became six years old, we left him and we moved into my grandparent’s house. Thankfully, my grandmother provided us with a wonderful home and took care of me with her endless love. However, she had her own problems as well. She bore the stigma and shame of birthing 5 girls in a row. In traditional Korean society, any woman who has only

The role of the father is to provide financially for the household, participate in the education of the children and everything else going in the house, go to parent-teacher conference, pick up and drop off the kids at school. My mother was the head of the household, she would make decisions for when it comes to what school I go to when it comes to paying for school, buying books, when it comes to what food the maid will cook or anything else, and anything else. I always if my dad helps probably by giving my mom money but not in front of me, but I guess I will never know. I have never seen my parents argue or mad at each other.

I was only nine when I had found out that my father had another family; he had a wife and a son. My father had been living with them and would visit me at least once every two months or so, but as soon as I had turned nine, my father introduced my to my half-brother, who was a year and a third older than me. When they visited me, their visits were always brief; time seemed to fly by while I played games with my brother, Ken, but I later learned that it was my father’s wife who did not allow him or Ken to visit me and she had not known they were visiting me due to the fact that they would lie.

My mother’s father, my grandfather, was a very large presence in the community. He was well respected in both the white as well as the black community in which he owned a grocery store. This was unusual because there was a lot of racial tension and discrimination in Southern Alabama in the 1960’s. He was a tall man at six foot five and was a hard worker. He often bailed people out of jail and helped them with food when they were financially strapped anonymously. He was a Sunday school teacher and had good moral values. I learned later that before I came along he had been an alcoholic, a smoker, had been known for his quick temper, was not religious and had been unfaithful to my grandmother. As it was told to me, one Sunday morning he got up, got dressed, went to church and never took another drink or smoked again and was a radically changed man. He became a kind, caring, charitable person. He was more of a father to me in many ways than my dad and we had long talks in which he stressed the important things in life. He and my grandmother took my sister and I fishing on the lake. We camped in the camper. We stayed for vacations at the Gulf of Mexico. The stories he told, lessons I learned and loving affection he genuinely offered is something I consider a gift I have never forgotten. The reason I never forgot is