The Symbols Of My Love In Love : My Father And Father

I was so scared that my father would come back for another blow up. I then heard the stairs getting louder like my mother was step in down the old wooden steps. My mother walked over to me sat on the window seat with me and held me tight, she was started tell gn me riddles to get my mind off of my father, several long hours later my father walked up to us crying and sobbing over what had happened he said,”I'm sorry about this incident, I've just been so stressed with work and home that I don't know who I am anymore,” I told my father I loved him and forgive him. Ever since this day it has been drilled in my memory and hurts me every time I remember. “ see kid”, said the stranger, I've had some tough times in this house and you are going to go through tough times just like me. After the tour of the house the man had thanked the family for letting him remorse from the house. The father had shut the door and locked it. I thought

While I was on the boat, my mother asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her that I didn't know yet, but I would tell her when I did. I tried looking for my older sister and my father, but they were gone. I profusely demanded my mother to tell me where they went and why they left us here. She replied by saying, "They went on ahead, to make sure the area we stayed at was safe and clean for our arrival." I was so proud of what I thought they were doing that I said, "I want to be like father." After I said that, tears ran down her face as she smiled. There truth was, that my sister died of tuberculosis and father died of smallpox and were both thrown into the sea.

My relationship with my father had shaped all my experiences with my friends, family, school and even careers.

When the men finally made their way over to us, one man, tall, skin in size, about a quarter of the muscle tone of my pa’pa pushed him into the wall, while another, shorter in stature, with bright blue eyes, the color of sapphire, hit my father from behind. My father fell to the ground, blood dripping down his face, looking hopeless and feeble. I felt so discouraged, the only thing I could do was weep. My father, on the ground, turned to us and told us to run and we did. Half the way to the house, all I could think about was how hopeless I was and how much I wanted to help, but could not. After all that was my father back there, my friend, my protector, my pa’pa. When we finally made it to the porch of our house, we were out of air and I was about ready to collapse. My brother finally mustered up the energy to tell my mother and uncle what happen.

For two weeks, I didn’t see my father at all. I woke up, every day, hoping that he would be in the dining room helping Dusty out with the making of breakfast. Instead, for the past two weeks, I woke up to the usual: breakfast on the table, Dusty and Vinyl calling me down to join them with still no sign of my father. No longer, for those two weeks, did I wake up to the smell of water vapour from Jazzmere’s smoking pipe. No longer, for those two weeks, did I wake up to Jazzmere singing old Equestrian songs about the Princesses and how they formed the kingdom. No longer, for those two weeks, did I wake up to the hissing sound of the iron Jazzmere used to iron the clothes I wore to school.

Even six year old me could see the great suffering my father experienced not only mentally but physically. I recall once walking in the bathroom and seeing my father vomit, it was the first time I seen him so vulnerable. I could see the pain in his eyes. It was our third month in the united states and my father could not find a job, it was killing him. He was considering a job as a dishwasher to support his family, for that I could never repay him. A sprinkle of hope glimmered in our dark world when my dad got a job as a dispatcher at a local Airport, when I look back now I wonder if father ever felt disappointed that his hard nights of studying in college was futile, if he know that he would have to give up his career to support his family. Soon we moved out of my aunt and uncle’s how’s into a small one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood. By that time my mother has lost a total of thirty pounds. The once vibrant and sociable women was always tired, she often made called relatives back home which resulted in her crying for hours. My father would often cook and clean, it was fascinating to see my dad performing these tasks

The world is useless, just like my life. The world is like an unkempt garden that is growing more unruly everyday. I can’t believe my life has come to this. My fathers only been dead for two months, not even. He was an excellent king like a Hyperion ruling over satyrs, and was so loving to my mother. She was always with him- do I have to remember? She was with him so much that even the winds from heaven did not reach her face as he protected her from them. Her appetite for his love continued to grow, but in less than a month after his death…I don’t even want to think about, woman you are so weak! Less than a month after my father’s death, her shoes from the funeral still wet with tears and not yet worn in, she married my uncle, my father’s brother. She should have mourned longer. Like me to Hercules, my uncle is not my father. And yet the tears in her eyes haven’t even had a chance to dry and she still married. They made the bed sheets become incestuous so fast; it can’t lead to anything good. It pains me to do so, but I cannot tell anyone about my

I could see the dirt marks on the floor from where the son of a bitch walked to his room to sleep. How can he live with himself. I got to his door but before I went in I glanced over and saw the little tools in the hallway. Tears came to my eyes but I told myself ‘you have to do this’. The words repeated over and over in my head ‘you have to do this. You have to do this! You have to do this!’ My heart ached I was so upset about Old Man Blue. The first tears started to fall but I quickly wiped it away. Papa would be so ashamed of me if he were here now. But I reminded myself he wasn't here I was alone all because of John. I opened the door. I walked over to the evil man's bed and before he could even open his eyes I snuck over to the fire place and grabbed a log. I walked back over to his bed and raised my arm and brought it down right on the back of his head. I checked his pulse. I felt ‘ba boom ba boom’ he was fine for now I thought to myself. I walked back down the steps but this time with a evil man in my arms. I went out to the old clock tower in the town. I went to the top still carrying

Throughout 2013 my mom and dad just couldn't seem to get along. I knew everyday when my father would get home from work; it was about to be World War III. Their relationship became more and more toxic. My dad, who I once loved and adored, became someone I didn't even know anymore.

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 next day when I woke up, things were different. Outside, a crowd of people stood around a post in the middle of our village. Loud weeps and screams filled the air, and my curiosity level was at its max. Just as I started to walk out of our front door, my father jerked me back inside. “Papa? Papa, what’s going on?!” I shouted. He said that we had no time to discuss things; we had to hide.

Since I was a young child I was not only taught to take pride in the land I was raised in, but to also respect those whom I shared it with. Although it was difficult to respect my own father after the things he had done. Through the eyes of all the townspeople my father was a respected man, although they did not know who my real father was. The week before my father left my mother and me, I had only just finished a few errands around the farm before going inside the house. I stood outside the window and watched as my father pushed my

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.

Once I stepped foot into the house that day, the gut wrenching feeling of a bad situation has dawned upon me. It was as if I was in a movie myself, seeing the scene take place slowly. As if I saw my dad’s pleading eyes slowly turn towards me and my mom’s glaring frown never tearing away from my dad’s face. Then everything went back to speed, with my mom sternly telling me to go inside my room. Eternity has passed by that consisted of countless yelling back and forth and I stood in my room transfixed and registering what I walked in to. I still won’t forget what it looked like to see my mom’s world tear down. Once the argument simmered down, my mom told me what happened. From what I heard, it has come to my

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.