Personal Narrative: Transitioning With My Father

1038 Words 4 Pages
When I had to choose between my mother and my father I chose my mother. My father wakes up at four o’clock every morning to work out at what is essentially cross fit for middle age adults. He has completed triathlons and was in an adult baseball league until he had his accident. While up to bat for his team the follow through of his swing decided that it would defy the standards of biomechanics. His Achilles tendon tore like a piece of string cheese. He works a forty-hour a week job as and electrical engineer, while also running our family’s small vending business. Transitioning from the epitome of hard work to immobilization was the hardest thing he had ever experienced. After his surgery he was only to get up from his recliner chair to use …show more content…
My dad currently is training for his second mini triathlon, and still works as an electrical engineer while running our family business. I think that my dad’s feelings of depression were a side effect of the pain medication that he was on during his recovery. What continues to confuse me about this entire situation is not only why I was so shitty toward my Father, but also why I instinctively chose to side with my Mother over my Father. This event occurred in my life, while I was in high school. It was not like I was a young child who spent my entire days under the watch and care of my mother, only to see my father for the limited times between when he would return from work and my early bed time. Before this I didn’t quantify the bond that I had with my mother as greater than the bond that I had with my …show more content…
While I hope that I would never get put in a situation where my mother was on the brink of leaving my family, I still feel that I would side with her given the chance. I do not know if my feelings of needing to hold on to my mother’s side of the argument stem from how I am indebted from all the time that she spent taking care of me growing up, relative to my father. I don’t know whether I did this because I have my mothers incessantly annoying giggle, or her nose and similar facial features. I do not think I will ever be able to diagram out my reasoning for my motivations during this event. I do, however understand that there is something inexplicably different about the bond of motherhood that the bond of fatherhood could never

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