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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Life Experience
- Published: 03/15/2021
Like Father Like Son
Born 1960, M, from Orange Park, FL, United States.jpeg)
My Father…
Does not talk much and yet he communicates well.
Is an inch shorter than I but I will always look up to him.
Hasn’t any teeth though I welcome his smile.
Has had little to give and yet has given me all I have.
Has never told me he loves me, but I have felt the love come through.
There were times, as I grew up, when I would look at the crowd made up of parents and search for him. I always knew he would not be there, and yet I looked anyway. Why couldn’t he be there? I am sure he was just too busy.
Through the years I have looked at his face and admired the strength I saw there. I have grown up never to have seen him cry from sadness or shake from fear. I have tried to be like him, to show no weakness, nor gain no pity, always striving to make him proud of me, living with the constant fear he may find disappointment in my life.
I have worked hard trying to gain his attention, to hear a good word, to see pride in his smile. I look back upon my childhood and remember all the times I have looked behind me only to find no one there. Am I angry? No. All the times I have felt alone I know now I really was not.
He taught me something, something no one else could. I have always felt it was something special. A special gift none of his other seven children got. I grew up not understanding what it was. I got his legacy. I learned to stand on my own. To be independent even when times are rough. To fight when no one else will. I know now I have his strength. I look at him and see myself in the reflection of his eyes. It makes me sad. It makes me want to cry, but I will not. I am carrying that part of him which is always watching even when he is not there.
I think of a little boy having to catch a fly ball. Not so much because it could mean winning the ball game, but instead winning approval. If I should fail, I will reach down inside and grasp that glimmer of strength it took him years to instill, and I will move forward, always aware it was he who gave me that strength.
I have felt pride in myself knowing I have become his image, but I recall a day when I also felt sorrow. Sorrow which came upon me so sudden and unexpected it overwhelmed me. It struck me full force when my eight-year-old son broke down in tears following a sporting event. The reason? He did not get a trophy like those his dad has! I felt failure like I have never felt before, and when I reached for that hidden strength, I found it was not there. Looking to my son I saw a glimmer beyond the tears. As he wiped the moisture from his eyes, I saw the glimmer grow a little stronger. I saw him as he gained the strength of my failure and I was sad.
Like Father Like Son(Steven W Kimball)
My Father…
Does not talk much and yet he communicates well.
Is an inch shorter than I but I will always look up to him.
Hasn’t any teeth though I welcome his smile.
Has had little to give and yet has given me all I have.
Has never told me he loves me, but I have felt the love come through.
There were times, as I grew up, when I would look at the crowd made up of parents and search for him. I always knew he would not be there, and yet I looked anyway. Why couldn’t he be there? I am sure he was just too busy.
Through the years I have looked at his face and admired the strength I saw there. I have grown up never to have seen him cry from sadness or shake from fear. I have tried to be like him, to show no weakness, nor gain no pity, always striving to make him proud of me, living with the constant fear he may find disappointment in my life.
I have worked hard trying to gain his attention, to hear a good word, to see pride in his smile. I look back upon my childhood and remember all the times I have looked behind me only to find no one there. Am I angry? No. All the times I have felt alone I know now I really was not.
He taught me something, something no one else could. I have always felt it was something special. A special gift none of his other seven children got. I grew up not understanding what it was. I got his legacy. I learned to stand on my own. To be independent even when times are rough. To fight when no one else will. I know now I have his strength. I look at him and see myself in the reflection of his eyes. It makes me sad. It makes me want to cry, but I will not. I am carrying that part of him which is always watching even when he is not there.
I think of a little boy having to catch a fly ball. Not so much because it could mean winning the ball game, but instead winning approval. If I should fail, I will reach down inside and grasp that glimmer of strength it took him years to instill, and I will move forward, always aware it was he who gave me that strength.
I have felt pride in myself knowing I have become his image, but I recall a day when I also felt sorrow. Sorrow which came upon me so sudden and unexpected it overwhelmed me. It struck me full force when my eight-year-old son broke down in tears following a sporting event. The reason? He did not get a trophy like those his dad has! I felt failure like I have never felt before, and when I reached for that hidden strength, I found it was not there. Looking to my son I saw a glimmer beyond the tears. As he wiped the moisture from his eyes, I saw the glimmer grow a little stronger. I saw him as he gained the strength of my failure and I was sad.
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Shirley Smothers
11/21/2022A sweet and sad story. I was not very close with my Father. He hid his emotions well. But I know he loved me. I miss hin evertday. Love your story.
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Lillian Kazmierczak
11/20/2022Steven, I loved this tribute and your son. I could feel the love and admiration you feel for your father. Our children often make us feel remorse or helplessness when they are sad. When I find the manual, I will share it with you! Your story was beautifully written and heartfelt. Congratulations on short story star of the week!
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Ramasubbulakshmi.R.
03/17/2021The story and poem are written well. So well written, the story touches the soul.
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COMMENTS (5)