My father is a very important person in my life, as they are in every person’s life. He has taught me many things throughout the course of my seventeen years on this planet, and I would not be the person I am today without him. I have many strong memories with him that have shaped me, and many stories of his life that he loves to share with everyone.
My father and I used to go fishing a lot. There are a couple of favorite spots that we have, two which are very close to our house. He bought me a fishing rod when I was young, one of those rods for kids which are quite short and have a mechanized reel to help kids catch fish easier. Our favorite spot is a lake behind my uncles neighborhood pool, which has a ton of bass and sunfish in it. One time, my dad took me and my cousin fishing one day. This was still early on in my angling career, so I was not confident in catching fish, and then removing them from the hook and back into the water. They were to slimy for me to handle, and I was scared of the barbs that ran along the back of the fish, which had poked blood from my hands countless times. The three of us were sitting on the shore with our bread bait and rods, waiting for a bite. All of a sudden, my rod starts twitching, and my dad tells me to start reeling in. I felt a big tug on the line, and I started reeling with all my strength. After a couple minutes, I could see the massive bass on the shore, flopping around. I walked up to it and grabbed the line, then walked over to my father with the fish dangling next to my legs. I asked him to take it off, and he said I needed to learn how to remove the hook from the fish. He got out an oven mitt, his favorite fishing tool, and handed it to me. I put my hand inside, grabbed the fish, and with my other hand stuck my fingers into the fish’s mouth, trying to grab the hook. I remember being disgusted by the fish, but my dad said he was not going to help me and I had to save the fish all by myself. I did not want the fish to die, so I overcame my fears, removed the hook, and released the fish back into the water after taking a picture. My cousin was terrified by the fish, and as soon as the hook was out and I started holding it, he ran as fast as he could up the hill. This was the moment where I found my love of fishing and my fascination of marine life, and my dad helped me overcome those fears. It was also a story that my father still shares with everyone today at every chance he gets.
Another amazing memory I have with my father is my Bar Mitzvah. As a young Jewish kid, I went to Hebrew school and Sunday school and all of that, and I hated it. I felt that it was a waste of time, and that I did not even learn anything. I hated every minute of it, and every time I came back home I felt major relief. But this was nothing compared to my Bar Mitzvah training, which I absolutely despised. My parents were adamant that I needed to have a Bar Mitzvah, as every Jewish kid needs to have one to become an adult. So my parents found me a tutor at my synagogue to teach me my Torah portion and all the prayers that I would be leading during my service. I had to practice reciting the entire thing almost every night, and each night I could not wait for it to be all over, and I could be done with it for the rest of my life. Soon, the day was upon me, and it was my turn to become a Jewish adult at the age of thirteen. I had written my speech that had the usual jabber about thanking my family, tutor, and everyone else, and I did not put much thought or care into writing it. The service felt like an eternity, but it was soon the time to give speeches, and I shared mine. There were a couple jokes that people laughed at, but it was nothing special. My father’s speech, however, was special. He cries extremely rarely, and I honestly cannot remember any other time I have seen him cry other than this moment. He shared with hundreds of people how proud of me he was, and he gave me a gift. It was a small plaque that his father gave him, that has the word “think” in capital letters. He told me to always think about everything. Every idea I have, I have to ask myself if it’s good, and that is because of my father. I still have that plaque on a shelf in my room, and everytime I look at it, it reminds me of that amazingly special day. These are just a few of my favorite memories with my dad, but there are many more. They each had a profound effect on me as a kid, and they have helped me grow as a person and as a son. His stories always make me and everyone else around laugh, and that is who he is: a jokester. But I am proud that I can call myself his son, and I cannot wait to make more memories with him.