My Father Narrative Essay

Little did I know that from this picture forward I would have to grow up faster than most children would. I was eight years old exactly when this picture was taken. My father is the man standing next to me. I always was a daddy’s girl and he was the one person I always could look up to, figuratively and literally. As time past, we were a fairly normal family. We ate dinner at the table together. My father had a job, my mother took care of us. It was the real example of the American Dream being lived. We were so happy together other than the small quarrels we would run into, but nothing we could not get over together. 6 years passed and we were still living our lives for the best. I started high school, my younger sister started eighth grade, and my …show more content…
I held in the tears for my sisters who were trying to do the same. We stayed and sat in the white room and talked like nothing was wrong. We left and this routine went on for 19 days. Some nights I would do the cooking and cleaning while my mother was at the hospital with my father. I took on the mother role and tried my best to be as strong as possible. I have two sisters, one was thirteen at the time and the other was ten at the time. It was my job to be a solid ground to remind them that it was going to be okay and that we just had to get through it one day at a time. As he stayed in the hospital, he lost almost all movement on the left side of his face. The doctors thought it would spread to his body, but he was lucky and it only took the left half of his face. For a while they did not think he was going to make it out of the hospital alive. It was hard to look at him without crying because the man that to me was indestructible for years was taken down and now you could visibly see it. I was scared to touch him or sit next to him in fear that I would mess something up for break something else in him. So much of me wanted to help but being only 14 years old there was nothing I could