Document Type
Love Personal Narrative
Publication Date
2008
Excerpt
As a young girl, I remember lying next to my father and lightly pushing my ears against his chest so that I could listen to the swift breaths move in and out of his lungs. In a moment, he would wake as I know he felt the soft ripples of my ear gently touch his skin. By this time, my father thought I was fast asleep as my eyes remained motionless and my long brown hair spread across the body of the bed, beaming in the shadows of the darkness. In the comer of my half-opened eye, I spotted the reflection of a stout man silently creeping into the depths of my slumber. As I lay dormant, my father leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered, "I love you." Inside, I felt tingles rush through my body almost as if butterflies had flown through my veins and somersaulted in the crevices of my stomach, although I dared not to open my eyes. This was perhaps one of the only moments in my life where I truly felt loved by my father. Since then, my relationship with my father has changed dramatically as it continually surges up and down the hills of life, yet I keep that memory of my father burned in the chambers of my heart. In the depths of this memory, love remains boundless, magical, and precious; and perhaps even better than to love or to be loved is to feel a sense of security, a feeling that is irreplaceable and more than anything, indestructible.
Recommended Citation
Diaz, Lezley, "Takeoffs and Landings (2008)" (2008). The Valpo Core Reader. 93.
http://scholar.valpo.edu/core_reader/93