Personal Narrative Essay: My Father Never Was My Favorite

Father Never Was My Favorite My uncle was a monk, but he was turned into dust just the last month. The time I disembarked to see my father who come to pick me up, I asked him about my sensitive aunts. In a moment, I inspected his expression if he was needed to be consoled too; and he behaved so usual that I decided to refuse the idea. Undoubtedly, right after I enter the temple, I found out everyone acted the same with me. My eyes caught on his slip away, and my ears listened to a sort of supernatural beliefs which related to my uncle’s death. Then, although I cannot figure out the relevance between my uncle’s death and my father’s alcoholic habits, I learned from times not to defend him because it is useless. Well-intentioned relatives persuade …show more content…
Those years my father was fully responsible for both business and family. My uncle, at that time, worked away from home, from the southest of Thailand to Bangkok. My aunts are too young, unable to manage things and little bit spoiled, to be responsible. My father, surprisingly, was the only one who served his paralytic mother in every aspect of life – eat, drink, sit, sleep, excrete and others. In addition, he drove five hours to send his mother to get the traditional treatment because the doctor of conventional medication refuses to cure the Parkinson which, at that age, has no treatment. I had visited that place for three times; and every time I, who is familiar to the rural atmosphere and way of life for living with it for ten years, try not to touch anything around because I am afraid some parasites will get into my body. I could not imagine this building can be a human resident. When I asked my father about more details, he simply affirmed that he had stayed there for two or three days and drove back to administer the business and then brought the grandmother back to get cure again. Everything looped for one year then my grandmother insists not to go there anymore no matter how my father