[viruz]

Ok i have an essay due very soon. It's a reflective one. And I'm having trouble struturing it. So I was wondering if anyone was nice enough to post theirs so i can have a quick read to get the basic idea or does anyone have any tips or such.

And NO i will not be copying and paste your essay and say it's mine.

[yujo]

My Father’s Side, My Father’s Eyes
My dad and I used to argue all the time. The way he ragged on me was like picking at a scab – he could not pass up the tiniest of itches. He drove me up to Pomona our first visit there and in classic fashion filled the hour with this long spiel about how ugly and polluted this river was on the side of the road. I didn’t get what he was talking about: there wasn’t a single speck in that creek.
I remember the last time we argued and how it changed everything. I had just showed him my latest test grade and he began a new lecture. It was a late night and I wanted to get to bed. Just had to listen and nod until he calms down. That’s it. But that night I had had enough. I let him know just how hard I worked for this test. Let him be aware of what I put myself through just to earn a speck of his respect. That night, he found out just how pathetically I regarded him. All I remember next was just how hurt his eyes were. And how I puffed up my chest as I went up the stairs – satisfied to have won the war – with my back turned towards his aged, suddenly frail body collapsed in his office armchair.
As time passed it no longer seemed like I was standing up for myself anymore. It turned into just me beating on an old man already hurting himself. I took every opportunity to tell him what I thought of him: how he never pursued his dreams of being an architect, how he never found what truly made him happy, how he always sat in bed for hours staring at the ceiling. He is not some foe to lock horns with – he is my father. Somehow what happened in our past poisoned our present relationship, and the two of us found it beyond just one of us to repair. But I learned to want to do it.
Once you go to college, it is hard to talk about anything but how hard college is and how terrible your job is. I stood next to him in front of the house, gave him a long hug and as he put his arms around me I could feel how strong he still was. This was the time to say it. But my tongue did not move. I said goodbye and got into the car. He stood on the curb and shrank in my rearview mirror. I wish I could have seen his eyes.
While driving up to Pomona on the exact same road I looked out the window from the driver’s side. Only then I saw it. There were two streams bordering that road, one on each side. And this second one ran with sludge and filth. I couldn’t help but smile.
Dad was right after all.