Destined to be like my father
...efore, I sat there quiet, and he knew that something was wrong. With us, it is a psychological thing. If he is feeling down, I am feeling down. If I am not feeling well, neither is he. It is something that has happened to us because we are together so much. This has helped us bond well. My Dad and I had a bonding experience on our last move to Georgia that I will never forget. When we moved to Georgia, our house had still not sold in Oklahoma. Therefore, we decided to rent a house until our house sold; we had to use our move package to move into the rental house. When our house finally sold, my Dad and I had to move all of our furniture into the new house all by ourselves. It was a very difficult task. I was only twelve years old, and we moved everything: couches, entertainment centers, beds, refrigerators, and our washer and dryer. It was very tedious, and we planned each carry diligently. We would constantly check on each other to see if the other was ok or if the other needed to take a break. After we were all finished, my Dad and I cried together. He was so proud of me. There could not have been a better bonding experience. Throughout my life, my family and I have moved around many times. I have lived in Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinois, Georgia, and now my family is moving to Florida. Every time we move, it is beneficial to everyone in the family as far as finances and bonding. Mainly, we move because my Dad is tired of his job and looking for a better one that he would enjoy more. It was hard on me to move. Nevertheless, because I care for my Dad so much, I made the sacrifices necessary for my Dad’s happiness. There have been many times in my life that my Dad has helped me when I have been in trouble. The most recent ordeal has been a speeding ticket. On Labor Day weekend, I was hurrying back to school so I could get back and work on my English studies. I had just gotten a new radar detector, and I thought I was invincible. I thought wrong. I was cruising down 2-85 at about ninety-five miles per hour. I saw a trooper clocking people on the side of the road, and then my radar detector started going off. Naturally, I decided to slow down and I slammed on the brakes. I swerved over to the farthest lane hoping that the trooper was going to get some other guilty offender, but he got me. The officer clocked me going eighty-seven in a fifty-five. It took me four hours to get up enough courage to call my Dad and tell him what I had done. Ironically, when I called my Dad he was going to Florida and had gotten a speeding ticket too. He really could not say much to me, but he gave me words of comfort that helped me cope with the consequences. Because of the comforting words and advice that my Dad shares with me, he is able to teach me to live and learn. This ultimately strengthens our relationship. The relationship I share with ...