My Father's DaughterA Story by Voice the true story of my father, drugs, and me... My Father’s Daughter The year was 1996 and the night was cold and rainy. A man I knew well Charles Chandler lay on a beat up sofa in his dirty cramped hotel room. He had nothing to comfort him but an old TV and his stash of drugs. It was a normal thing for Charles to get high, but this night was different. And with the drugs coursing through his veins it was already too late to figure out why. His mother and three sisters wanted nothing to do with him and his two sons Tommy and Charlie hated him for leaving them and their mother. Charles did not know though that his girlfriend Robin Heard and his two-year-old daughter Carol Chandler loved him and wanted him to come home. Yes that is right Charles was my father and he was a drug addict. My father died that night never knowing the family he was leaving behind. My mom used to talk about him when I was younger. He had short black curly hair, blue eyes, and he was in the five foot range. My mother and he planed on getting married after he got clean, but he never could. I was told that he tried but once he was hooked there was no way out. My mother grew up with him, his brother, and three sisters. She used to talk about the good times they had playing Sewer Tag and One Catch All. She also told me about the time my dad jumped over a white picket fence and his jeans got stuck on one of the points. It must have been so funny to watch him dangle upside-down. Or the time he jumped off a porch and had a nail go through his foot…yah he did a lot of stupid things. As I grew up it was obvious that my family was different than most of my friends. I never went to daddy daughter dances, went fishing, or built tree houses like a lot of the kids around me were taking for granted. I never once felt sorry for myself though. Other kids used to ask me what it was like to lose my dad and I would always say the same thing. “I don’t know, because he is still with me.” He left things with me that make up a big part of who I am today. He left me with the knowledge to never do drugs, to treat all people no matter how different than you kindly, and of course my blue eyes. I don’t have many physical possessions left behind by my father. I have only two or three photos of us together, the promise ring he gave to my mother, and my prized possession the one and only letter written by my father. The only legal proof that he was my father and the only thing that holds the words “I love you.” I often wonder what my life would be like if he had not died; I know it would be very different. If he had not passed my mother would have never put me in day care which though led to some abuse it also brought me together with friends I followed to Washington Elementary. There I honed my skills for writing poetry which followed me to middle school. I met many people that have left impressions in my life and I have met a few where I have done the same. Because of my father my mother’s life and my own has been hard but meaningful. Because of him I am understanding, giving, hard headed, stubborn, argumentative, I always stand up for what I believe in, and I am strong. These are all characteristics that my father left me and they all make up who I am. So who am I? I am Carol Chandler…and I am my father’s daughter.
This was a paper I was assigned to write last year in 8th grade. The assignment was to pick something or someone that made you who you were and I picked my father. I hope that after reading this you go and tell someone that you love them, because tomorrow is never a guarantee. Spend the time that you have wisely and never take one moment for granted. We only get one chance at this; don’t live your life with regrets…Voice
© 2009 VoiceAuthor's Note
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