Sunday, August 4, 2019
Personal Writing: The Day Of Surprise :: essays research papers
Personal Writing: The Day of Surprise      â€Å"That's so cool!†I exclaimed. In my hand was a Valentines Day card which folded to make a spaceship. I was in a Hallmark card shop with my father, looking at cards for the upcoming holiday.      â€Å"If I got you that card now, then it wouldn't be a surprise later,†my father logically stated.      â€Å"But it's neat! See, it folds into a spaceship.†     â€Å"I'll get it for you but... just act surprised for your mother when you open the card.†     â€Å"Okay dad,†I answered as we walked up to the counter. My father paid for the card and we left the store.      It was a week before Valentines Day in 1987. I was nine years old and intensely anxious. Expectation for February 14 had overcome every other thought I previously had. It might seem funny to some that I held that one day with such great esteem, but to me it was unlike any other holiday. On Valentines Day I felt loved by everyone. On that day, I would obtain the card that I had picked out from my father. Classmates would give everyone Valentine cards. Some extremely generous kids would even attach candy to the cards. It didn't matter if you hated each other, on Valentines Day everyone put aside their differences and even presented cards to the children nobody liked. That one day of love seemed to unify the worst of foes through love and forgiveness. I could hardly wait for that day to come.      As the night before Valentines Day had rolled around, anticipation had escalated to an all time peak. Nevertheless, it was all set aside as my parents once again started to fight. My brother and I were sent to the car in the garage so that we would not witness them fighting. We knew the routine. I was scared and I could still hear angry voices dueling back and forth. My brother was a senior in high school and even he seemed frightened when they fought. Although he tried to hide his fear, I knew he was afraid when my father would go on a rampage. An hour passed by and my brother and I decided to go back inside.      The house was still. A pin could have dropped and we would of heard it. My father had gone to lay down in his bed. This action was suggested by the marriage counselor that my parents had been visiting. Whenever my father got angry, he was supposed to rest until he calmed down. The problem was that he
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