Personal Narrative: My Father Has Affected My Life

I never really think about not having a dad growing up unless someone points it out. That is, thinking about how it affected my life. “Sure it bothered me, but I didn’t need him,” is a quick summary I tell my friends. My father left Illinois not too long after I was born. My mother was still here, falling a tad bit short of the “responsible” example. Overall, I’ve done superb without him. However, thinking about all the times I wish he’d been here, I realize it made a big impact on my outlook and opinions. March of 2014 changed my life. I had spoken to my father once, a few weeks before, for the first time in 14 years; not that I cared. He had explained how it wasn’t entirely his fault he hadn’t been around, and that I’d see him soon. I didn’t think he meant that. A few months after that I moved in with him. I’ve lived there since. It has been a roller coaster of emotions, issues, and misunderstandings. Recently, one of my friends asked me to speak on the subject. Brooke approached me during lunch. “Maddy, I was wondering if
Exciting huh? It’s not normal, or even odd. It’s insane. Having someone supposed to be there for all your life, just pop up! Not to mention, in my teen years. My dad and I get along now, truthfully, I think we’re just waiting for me to go to college. There was a time when this wasn’t the case. When he first moved back from Florida things were uncomfortable. Then within a couple months things turned hostile. We didn’t know, or understand each other. I had resentment. He was mad I didn’t immediately forgive him. We started to cool down when school started my freshman year. Now my father and I argue because I’m too mature. I had to grow up too fast, mostly because he wasn’t here. I assume responsibility easily, which for some reason, he doesn’t like. Overall, I think things will even out when we go our separate ways again. I will never have a phenomenal relationship with him like he