I met this unforgettable character when I was just minutes old. This person means a great deal to me. He is still in my life, but not as I always remember.
My father and I did everything together. I was most definitely daddy's little girl. My father had all the typical dad features. He was big and strong and made our home feel safe. I can remember cuddling in his lap watching television. His arms were so thick and mighty. He made me feel very secure. I remember helping him plant the garden. My dad would push the shovel into the dirt and I would jump on it over and over until it was pushed down far enough. I'd always get tired, so I would go inside and bring out a couple of Freeze Pops for the two of us.
I can remember my dad taking me to the park frequently. We'd go to the park I called "Big Slide". He used to climb up the steps behind me, then go down with me. He'd hold on to my waist and just before the end of the slide, he'd pull me back so I wouldn't fall.
My father and I used to go fishing once in a while. I had my own plastic little, Fisher-Price fishing pole. He would help me east out and whenever he got a bite he'd tell me I caught it and help me reel the fish in. I remember we used to play miniature golf every Sunday unless it was raining. He'd help me tee off and aim. Then he'd put his feet around the hole so even if I missed, his feet would knock the ball in.
I remember one of my favorite treats was going to the Pie Plate. My father and I would get coffee (mine was chocolate milk in a mug) and a banana creme pie. He'd always let me order so I would feel like a big girl.
My father and I used to go duck pin bowling, too. Even though the balls are smaller, I could barely hold them in my small hands. He taught me to bend over and roll the ball between my legs. He'd try not to laugh as the ball would either head straight for the gutter or roll behind me.
I also remember when my father and I would go to Carvel's for an ice cream cone. He'd always order a chocolate cone and I'd order vanilla with colored shots. Another of my childhood memories was when my brother, father, and I would watch WWF wrestling and then have our own pretend match in the cellar. My brother and I would always beat him and he would shout out as if we were actually hurting him.
As I grew older, our relationship changed. He was no longer my daddy. He now became my dad. I knew he would still help me, but I began to need my mom more. My father and I were both changing. He became the rule maker and punishment-enforcer. I didn't mind this change, though. I knew it had to happen.
A couple years ago, my father's character changed again. This time the change was not expected. One evening after dinner, my mom, dad, brother and I got together for a little talk. That little talk became one of the most horrifying experiences of my life. I remember my parents telling us that they weren't going to stay together. I remember the shock that came over me and the massive flow of tears falling from my eyes. I remember my father saying that after 22 years of marriage, he single-handedly decided that it wasn't working. He was willing to give it all up just so he could be free. He didn't care anymore for our needs. I couldn't help but think why. Why would he do this?
That night was horrible and seemed to last forever. Days later, my daddy was out of our house. Instead of seeing him during dinner, all I did was talk to him on the phone. I was very upset with this new situation. I kept telling myself that everything would be all right.
I accepted the predicament, but then, it changed again. I understood that my father divorced my mother. He wasn't supposed to divorce me too, but that is exactly what he did.
I rarely talk to my father anymore. It's as if we've grown apart. I know I'm not the same little girl I used to be (I try), but he doesn't even try to be the daddy I used to know, and I will never forget. c
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
My mother is without doubt the most important person in my life and the most complete individual I know.
She is very beautiful and has the kindest eyes that I have ever seen. She not only worked hard to ensure that I had a good upbringing, but was also very strict and often punished me whenever I went wrong. Even though I did not like the punishment then, I now look back and realize that it was meant to lovingly correct me and help me to follow the right path when growing up.
My siblings and I have always taken pride in the appearance of our mother, especially her lovely long hair. I remember whenever my mother came to visit us at school, other pupils would urge us to ask our mother to remove the pins from her hair so they could see the long well-kept hair. Even though I have seen very many beautiful people, very few ladies match the beauty of my mother.
One of the reasons I and my siblings were especially fond of my mother is the way she used to take great care of us, especially when we were ill. She is a very knowledgeable lady who made a variety of home remedies to help take care of the minor illnesses that we had as children. Her motherly love also extended to the animals in the farm, especially the chickens. My mother would always check on the chickens and give them medicine whenever she determined that they had some ailment.
My siblings and I did not like to see our mother sad and would do just about anything to bring a smile to her face. Interestingly, even when she was very worried or sad about something, she would always smile to make us stop worrying about her. My mother not only loved those around her, but was also compassionate. We often observed her compassion towards our neighbors, especially when a new neighbor moved in or when one of the neighbors was going through a hard time. My mother would sacrifice her time to go to a needy neighbor with a hot bowl of a soup that would instantly make the neighbor feel appreciated.
My mother was a good cook who always left us looking forward to the next meal. She knew how to mix the right ingredients to end up with a meal that often left us licking our fingers. Just the memory of the foods that my mother prepared for us makes me salivate to this present day.
Tips on writing a descriptive essay about mother:
Since this is a description essay, one is expected to write about the unique attributes that makes the individual or object being described special, which, in this case, is the speaker’s mother. One could begin writing this essay by describing what one’s mother means to one and the unique characteristics that makes one have special thoughts and feelings for the mother. One could also explain what one’s mother does that makes one perceive her to be a special human-being. Moreover, one could also describe how one’s mother used to take care of one.
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