My Father Essay

922 words - 4 pages

I flip my pillow around to the cold side and keep turning side to side until
I find a comfortable position. Ahhh, there I’m comfortable. But wait, I still feel that ball in my stomach taking over my entire body. I go to the kitchen to drink a glass of milk and eat a cookie, yet the ball in my stomach is still there. I go back to bed and feel the cold air of the fan on my skin; goose bumps. The sound of my younger sister snoring makes it even more difficult for me to fall asleep. At most, I have slept for an hour. It is two in the morning and I feel like a like I’ve drank coffee the whole day; wide awake and ready for action. Trying to fall back to sleep, I reach for my plush monkey and lay on his soft, velvety stomach. I finally hear the sound I was waiting for, the remedy to my sleepless nights. I hear the door creak open and the “self- proclaimed obnoxious” foot steps, but to me it is the total opposite. The kitchen lights magically turn on. After ten minutes, it seems that all the sound has stopped and the apartment goes back to total darkness. What a relief, I can sleep now!
To support our family, my father has to take double shifts at his job. His night
shift requires him to come as late as three in the morning. It is difficult for me to fall asleep knowing that he’s out there somewhere facing the dangers of the world while I am
in my bed “sleeping”. I get nervous everyday just thinking of all sorts of things than can happen to him. I think of him as superhuman, coming home at three in the morning and getting up at seven in the morning to drive me to school. His late night phone calls are the only way to know how he is doing and at what time he will be back home from work. This is not what I had in mind for him as a job, driving from New York to even Connecticut and Long Island at midnight. I hate watching him wake up just to take me to school. Those saggy looking tired eyes play over and over in my head and remind me that I must strive to succeed and never give up just like he does. But what is most impressive is that not matter how tired he feels he insists in driving me to school. My friends tell me I am abusing him, but they just do not seem to understand that I do not ask him to drive me, he wants to.
“Lo hago nada mas por ti” or “quiero que tu digas en el futuro, gracias papi por...

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