Jay Maxey Personal Essay My Father

My Father
Thinking back to the death of my father really makes me sad, I remember three times a week after school I would go visit my father. I would go to the hospital room where my father was in a comma since his accident; my eyes would often wander to the Gayle Sayers football jersey my mother placed at his bedside. Fourteen years ago my father was fighting with a friend of his and he slipped during the fight. My father hit the back of his head extremely hard on the concrete ground, and he suffered a severe brain injury. The injury was so bad that the doctors had ruled out any possibility of him ever waking up again. When I saw my dad lying in that bed, frail but peaceful as if he were asleep, it’s hard to dwell on the “what ifs”: what if he didn’t go hangout with his friends? What if I asked him to go to play basketball with me at the park that day? I can’t pretend I have developed enough distance from the event to draw conclusions about life, but I have already begun to see myself in very different terms.
Ironically, through the situation with my father this has given me a chance to face reality head-on. My relationship with my father was warm but fraught with tension. He never seemed satisfied with what I did and reprimanded me for every wrong step I took. He had a strong opinion of the way I had my hair cut from the barbershop, clothes, friends, and above everything else my academic performance. He used to tell me that I needed to learn how not to procrastinate when it comes to an education. He stressed that if I missed my teenage years of studying, I would regret it later. He didn’t like me going out with friends, so I often ended up staying at home. I was never allowed to sleep over at other students home. All I remember from my past high school years is going to school and coming back home. I was confused by my parents’ overprotective attitude, because they emphasized independence yet never actually gave me a chance to be independent.

In terms of career, my dad often lectured me about which ones are acceptable and which are not. He worried me endlessly about whether I would ever go to college, and he often made me feel as if he would ever accept my choices. Rather than standing up for myself, I simply assumed that if I studied hard, he would no longer be disappointed in me. Although I tried hard, I never seemed to get it right; he always found fault with something. As if that weren’t enough, he frequently compared me to my over-achieving older cousin, asking me why I couldn’t be more like him. I must admit at times I even questioned whether my father really loved me. After all, he never expressed admiration for what I did, and my attempts to impress him were always in vain.
In retrospect, I don’t think I fully understood what he was trying to tell me. A few years ago when I use to come home to an empty house, it strikes me just how dependant I was of my parents. At the time when my dad died and my mother was always working, I see that I had to develop strength to stand alone one day. And for the very first time, I now realize that this is exactly what my father was trying to make me see. I understand now that he had a big heart, even though he always never let it show; he was trying to show me in the right direction, emphasizing the need for me to develop independence and personal strength. He was trying to help me see the world with my own eyes, to make my own judgments and decide for myself what I would eventually become. When my dad was still with us I took all of his advice the wrong way. I should not have worried so much about living up to my parents’ expectations; their only expectation of me after all, is that I be myself.
In mapping out my path of achieving my independence, I know that me getting an education will allow me to build on the foundations with which my parents have provided me. I once was frustrated by my lack of direction, but I know now what I truly want to do with my life. Strangely, dealing with my father’s death has made me believe that I can tackle just about any challenge. Most importantly I am enthusiastic about my education more than ever before. In embarking on my college education, I will be carrying with me my father’s last gift and greatest legacy: a new desire to live in the present and the confidence to handle whatever the future might bring.