I’m not sure if my essay fits the topics and if I address the topic enough in my essay. Do I answer the question well enough? I think it would fit the first or third topic but I’m really not sure. Also, should I change mother, father and grandfather to mom dad and poppop? please help.
“On August 6, 2016 I was sitting in my black Jeep Grand Cherokee in Cape May, New Jersey waiting for my grandfather to get home from work. However, I looked in my rearview mirror and instead of my grandfather I saw my mother. I froze, shocked by her presence. Why would she drive an hour without telling me? I exited the vehicle and inquired, “Did one of the dogs die?” My mother stopped, her face cold, and whispered, “Name, your dad died.”
My father’s name was not the best father, I will admit. I was born when he was eighteen years old and he and my mother ended their relationship a few years later and there was a growing hatred between them to the day he died. He was absent from my life often with no explanation, experienced bursts of anger and most importantly he abused drugs beginning in his adolescence and it led to his death. There was a point, when I was sixteen years old, that he offered me pills that he believed would help in my weight loss journey and asked me to drive him to see his drug dealer, although he knew I did not accept this part of his life. So, when he died of a heroin overdose, I used these memories to distance myself from the event. I felt nothing and I told myself it was because he was a bad father and I had nothing to miss.
It did not take long to realize that I was wrong; he was a good man and a good man. With this realization came regret for the wall I had built between us when I was fourteen, anger at the way I treated him, and depression because I will never be able to talk to my father again. I experience all of these feelings alone, nobody knew how to help me and I didn’t want to ask for any help. I believed that my mother never really cared about my father and everything she said made me angry so distanced myself from her and the rest of my family. Also, my friends didn’t know what to say when I wanted to talk; they’d always make light of the situation when I wanted to have a serious conversation and let somebody know I was suffering.
I felt this way for a while, but I put on a smile when I was with friends or at school. However, at night I would drive around the county with my windows down and my music as loud as possible, trying to drown out the multitude of feelings that were consuming me. Eventually, driving stopped helping, I would come home and feel worse than when I left.
My father lived in a mission for about a year and during his stay there, he found peace in religion. He was a devout Christian for years until he strayed from this path and began abusing drugs again, although he was still a religious man. In an effort to bring myself closer to him, I bought a bible and began studying it and I attended a church service with my neighbor. After trying this for a few weeks, I noticed a change in myself. When I saw things that reminded me of my father I would not begin to weep and my carefree behavior around my friends became effortless. A sense of normalcy returned to my world and I felt a deeper connection to my father.
Through religion I have been able to overcome many of the feelings that came with my father’s death. I no longer feel such deep regret, anger, and sorrow, yet these emotions will never be erased from my heart. I am thankful for the harmony I have found in Christianity and believe that I will one day be able to see my father again.”