blog




  • Essay / Short story of my father - 1588

    It was Dad, mean and skinny. A solid and proud work machine. He had a no-nonsense personality, he believed that if you don't eat, sleep or work, you should look for work. Our dad encourages us to be the best we can be and excel in everything we do. At every cross country meet, every basketball game, and every dinner, Dad was there. Dad didn't stay with us long after our father died. He was close to Dad's best friend. Dad wasn't Dad's real father, Dad was his grandfather, his Dad died a long time ago of a heart attack. I also remember Dad, he was old and kind. Dad always smelled of shaving cream and horses. He adored us very much, and it took a big piece of Dad when he passed away. My mother loved Dad very much, but he had died inside for a long time. He left and for a long time I hated him. I watched my mother struggle over the next three years trying to raise and feed us with what she was.