My Pitiful Father Essay examples -- Personal Narrative

My Pitiful FatherI always thought that family was supposed to stick by family through wholly of the tough circumstances. So why did my become just walk appear on my family when we needed him the most? How could he make us bear out and blame it only on me? Every family has its problems and arguments once in a while. My dumbfound was our familys problem. His presence made us all savour uneasy. I do not know what it was, but when I was a little girl, I devotioned my commence. I feared being alone with him I feared overtaking out with him I feared him. Around him I felt like I was imperfect because I thought he was perfection. He seemed to have gotten along with my older and younger associate better than me. I was the one to moderate his orders and follow them. The more I grew up, the more distant I became from my father. When my father was mad at any one of us, it seemed like the end of the world. zilch was worse than my father completely ignoring me. When I wa s little, I went with my father and companion to the toy store. My dad bought my brother a toy, and for the first time ever, I got mad and jealous at him. My dad saw how I reacted towards my brother and when we all got to the car, he told me not to get inside. This happened more than ten long time ago, and I still can feel that tightening feeling in my stomach. I still feel the tears that came down as I watched my dad cold-heartedly drive off and leave me in the parking lot. My father had no remorse when he saw me crying. It seemed to me that he was more at ease with himself when he saw anyone of us crying. My dad was far from perfect. But it was fear that held my brothers and me from telling anyone anything he did, especially my mom. My mom worked during the evening, ... ...om seeing us (particularly me) unhappy. why? It is hard to say. Events like this never made any sense to me. term I was in my brothers room, I called my mother and told her what was sledding on. I did not realize that I had left the door open, and my father was standing there and overheard me. He started screaming and yelling at me and told me I was the reason why he and my mother did not get along anymore. He told me I was the reason why the family was breaking apartit was all my fault. Was it really my fault? Or was it just a cover story, because he knew it was his fault. I did not understand how a person who brought me into this world, who was supposed to have a go at it me unconditionally, could take all his love away. My father helps me to realize that hate is a cover story for love. I know my father loves me regardless of what has happened in the past.