Personal Narrative - The Day My Father Left Us

On the day my father left us, my story starts from the second grade. Time is good, I am enjoying my childhood. As we did on other Sundays, on Sunday my mother and I went to church. I said that my father was tired this time, so I decided not to go with him. So we did activities on a regular Sunday. The activity on that day was very normal. We participated in the worship of a good church mixed with our friends, helped around the church, and went out to eat.

My mother is a wonderful person. She raised me and my three brothers by myself. My father left when he was pregnant with my brother. She does not have anything. Although we are obviously poor, my mother confirms that we always have room and meals. She made every effort to earn enough money and confirmed there was time to spend with us. I learned my patience and effort from her and I always thank her. My wife is a gift for everyone. When she did not organize a vaccination camp with the poorest countries in the world and MSF, she recycles the soap of the hotel and redistributes it to Sundara, a non-governmental organization in the poor communities around the world, It increased. Why can not I be inspired by her?

You are enough. My father left his wife, daughter, and son. He left his brothers and sisters and his parents. He left a friend. One of us, closest to him, has found different ways to blame himself or condemn him by the day. For a few days I would like to know why I am not enough to keep him here. I know that my father loves me. I know that he loves my mother. I know that he loves my brothers. As the years go by, my father's life is less than his life's number. The truth is that my father's choice does not matter with anyone but me. No one should be blamed. Just because he chooses to leave does not mean he loves us more, but there is still the possibility of being angry - it's really bad. I am still good enough. I still love him.

We left my father in 2003. He still knows my last sentence. After leaving my father, we do not have any money or wealth at all. A bit of clothing and our important documents. My aunt Huma protected us at that time. My mother soon began working at NGOs and earned 20,000 rupees. Every month we borrowed a small apartment later and moved to the house she borrowed. However, even if I asked for a penny when I asked, I do not remember after she refused me.