My Fathers Life by Raymond Carver - Book Report/Review Example

My father was born in New York, Harlem. When he was eight years old, his parents separated and they moved to Connecticut with my grandmother, away from my grandfather moved to Chicago to start a new life alone. He grew up quickly into a responsible young man of an adoring and a reputable character, fair skinned with straight hair and brown eyes. His good looks were crowned with a wide smile, which I happen to have inherited and which reminds most of his friends and family members (as they always claimed) of 'F.M' as they referred to him. He earned these initials from his school-days buddies, and which I later in life learnt, though not from daddy, as he kept it well hidden, stood for Finance Minister which he earned himself in the sixth grade for representing his class in the School's Government in the Ministry of Finance. His mother felt the need for change and so to upgrade him from their not so good financial background, sent him off to a school in San Francisco, where he was to put up with an aunt while attending a public school since she could not afford him the luxury of studying in a private school. The Second World War broke out while my father was still in school, and like most of his friends and all young strong and loyal men of the day, he was drafted into the army to fight for the cause of the nation he believed in. There, he drove an ambulance though his preference was to fight in the front line. He could penetrate war fields and employ skills and extraordinary tactic in missions to rescue injured solders, and once, he almost got himself killed when the ambulance he was driving was bombed by an enemy tanker missile while on a rescue mission to save the life of some seriously injured colleagues. His friends said that his cleverly wit survived him through the war. Immediately after the war, my father returned to Connecticut and decided to settle there. He later met my mother, a shy strong girl from Jamaica, with a large doze of innocent and a tremendous appetite. My father always said that he fell for her because of that gigantic appetite. They got married in a local church and were blessed with two kids: my sister and I. We grew up fast and all took after their father's strength and an outgoing character. As a young couple, my parents loved bowling and so they spent most of their spare time together on the game. My father liked partying a lot, and I can recall once my mother referring to him as a 'party animal' after he came home drank after a night of partying and playing cards with his friends. He worked hard though, and he always had two jobs going, at a minimum, all the days of his youthful life. For example, I remember he took a job as a factory worker for eight hours ever day and then took a four hour break then reported for another job in an apartment store for another six hours. Despite the heavy responsibility of supporting his young wife and the kids, he managed well enough and placed us in good private schools and at the same time affording him self a good and exciting life. He loved baseball and at one point he trained a local club which never did too well anyway. My mom once told me that after my sixth birthday, dad thought that I was old enough to know the game and so he took me along for a trial on the league. Mum came along to watch her men play. She recalls that the ball came to me and as I struggled to concentrate on the ball so had that I missed and it hit me on the face, right between my eyes, I was so embarrassed. He was a good father and had time for the kids, taking them swimming twice every week and for ice cream every Sunday afternoon. They would take the 'wife' along once in a blue moon just to keep the whining away for lack of due attention from the hubby. Sometime in her late thirties, in his late forties, one of my father's friends offered him the chance to cruise on a cruiser leaving Florida to the island. My father's wish has always been to be able to support his family without having to rely on either loans or on borrowing from the family. And so he took the golden chance and interpolated that as the chance to build his family an independent future. He wanted to build the family a presentable house and a lovely home. My father suddenly got grabbed from us the kids by his new job, with the frequent travelling schedules and the tight working days, and sooner we all were feeling just like our sweet mom felt sometime before, stranded and neglected for the depreciated attention! And so we decided to grow up fast, and we did. After years of hard work and focused investment, my father retired at his early fifties having by then taught us enough management skills and expertise to manage his average riches. He wasn't doing so badly and so he acquired a real car then, a 1938 Ford which was only meant for the business trips and taking the family to the church on Sunday. He was a religious man and he insisted on church attendance and nobody was to leave until after the catechism and the grace prayer was recited. No drinking was allowed, no smoking either, though I sometimes managed to sneak some into the house. I once got caught with a bottle of wine and whatever happened then so many years ago has kept me off that stuff or anything stronger up to now. On hitting fifty five, his heart started developing complications and so he retired to the country side to rear sheep, his favourite animals. I then took over the full management of the family businesses. Twenty year later, a picture of the man I so dearly love sits on my bedside reading desk, all smiles, sometimes back in his thirties, the very tough physique tacked in an overall taken when he used to work as a supervisor in the production line in the factory. I have always been proud of him and his style of management and bringing us up which of course I will imply on my sons and daughters. I will forever be glad to God for having been sired by such an honest man who lived right throughout his life, and taught us to respect and to love all people equally while retaining our integrity. Reference. Raymond Carver (1989), 'My father's life'. Ed Donald Hall.Boston. Read More