Stories In Common

Family & Friends - Dad (18 stories selected)


Stories Listed by Date (page 1 of 2)

Abandoned (story 1 of 18)

Author: katie chaplin
Date: May 14, 2008
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

I was three as I watched my mother and father fight. I dont remember him at all. my only memory comes from that day. I did not know that my father took drugs, so I was surprised to learn this when I was 10. But on the day when I lost him, I could tell something wasnt right.When mom was shopping he was in the living room with me trying to teach me the alphabet. Remember, I was three years old. I got one letter wrong, he took me and threw me, from the doorway of my room, onto my bed.I dont reme...

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My Father (story 2 of 18)

Author: Marlene Samuels
Date: March 30, 2007
Rating: Not yet rated

My Father’s Number

“Somewhere in the world,” my father explains to me, “somewhere, there is or was another man, from another camp - a hell-hole like Auschwitz, that maybe they tattooed with this exact same number.” He shakes his head in an effort to repel tears welling in his eyes. “There could be no worse.” My father whispers. “Who knows how many of my number there could have been, how many they murdered? God only knows?”

He says the word “they” with curled lips that reveal uneven teeth....

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Where is Rock Bottom? (story 3 of 18)

Author: A. D.
Date: January 28, 2007
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

Nobody hated my father more than my grandfather did. That idea sounds so cliche: You're not good enough for my daughter. But if you'd had been in the fatherly position my grandpa was in, you wouldn't have been fond of the man either. He was a rugged looking man, the kind every dad has nightmares about him coming to the door. He was ten years older than my sixteen year old mom, which is enough to make anybody extremely uncomfortable. He already had a daughter with another woman who he saw ever...

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Fishing (story 4 of 18)

Author: D. C.
Date: December 12, 2006
Rating: 4.5 stars from 2 votes

My earliest memories are of the camping trips our family would take for two weeks at a time each summer and they are the best memories I have. I specifically remember one trip to a campground in Maryland where my father and I went fishing together. I remember hiking with him on a roundabout trail to the river. At the time, I was so young that I couldn’t tell my right from my left and as we would come to forks in the trail, he would ask me which way we should go as a way of teaching me.

...

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Misunderstanding (story 5 of 18)

Author: N. K.
Date: December 8, 2006
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

It was during science class when it happened. One of my close friends, Cherry, was talking about how a mutual acquaintance would not stop talking about how great her father was. Cherry understood that people should respect their parents, but she honestly did not care whether or not another girl's father liked the color blue. I remember laughing and saying, "Wow, she never says anything to me about her dad. I think she thinks my dad died!"

I expected her to laugh with me, but she stared at me...

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Remember (story 6 of 18)

Author: isabelle rodriguez
Date: October 25, 2006
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

I haven't seen my father in 7 years. I remember everything about the last time I saw him, thinking I was going to a grandparents, but really leaving forever.

I don't really know what to think of him, but I do know what I remember, and how I portrayed him. Everyone has a certain feeling that they get when they have a relative in jail; they want to see him, they want to remember. That is what I want to do: remember.

For the life of me, my brain does not pull up sound recordings of his voice....

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Stalag XX-B (story 7 of 18)

Author: Violet Hall
Date: October 25, 2006
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

We held the rear, fighting hard to keep the enemy at bay
Hundreds of men lay dying, but lots more got away.
It was' Dunkirk,' as many know, it was not the place to be:
We fired our gun! Our hearts beat fast, to see the boats at sea

An enemy shell silenced our gun, and all my mates were dead,
my khaki uniform, red with blood and an enemy soldier said,
"For you Tommy the war is over", and gave me a cigarette.
It took one glance for him to see, we were no more a threat.

The searing pa...

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Skinny (story 8 of 18)

Author: P. B.
Date: October 14, 2006
Rating: 3.5 stars from 2 votes

My dad was very wiry when he was young, so much so that the Navy initially turned him down in WWII because he did not weigh enough, being almost six feet tall and weighing around 125lbs. When the induction doctor turned my dad down, he told dad that if he really wanted to join up, to go out and purchase five pounds of bananas, eat them, and come in to get re-weighed, which my dad did.

In the Navy, his friends called him “Skinny”. This slimness was accentuated by the custom bell bottoms he ha...

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Friend (story 9 of 18)

Author: P. B.
Date: October 14, 2006
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

A true friend, my definition:

The person that you could call in the middle of the night and ask for all their cash and the keys to their car, no questions asked....and have them arrive at your door as fast as they could get there, (with a sandwich in case you were hungry).

That was my dad.

My dad died very suddenly, which was merciful for him but tough on the rest of us.

He had just found out his beloved sister had Alzheimer’s disease. This event and other family trials had wearied him...

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Carried Away (story 10 of 18)

Author: A. K.
Date: October 14, 2006
Rating: 4.0 stars from 1 vote

The most enduring and happy memory of my father is being carried to bed when I fell asleep on the couch. My entire family would watch movies on TV and I would inevitably conk out before the end. During a commercial or after the movie Dad would carry me upstairs and tuck me in. He would lift me up and put me on his shoulder. I'd wake up just enough to understand what was happening and hug his neck tight. In my half conscious state I remember feeling warm, safe and loved.

When I had chil...

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