My Father Pellico Analysis

We all judge too harshly, especially our parents. As Italian writer, Silvio Pellico, once expressed, “Exigir a los progenitores, para respetarlos, que esten libres de defectos y que sean la perfeccion de la humanidad es soberbia e injusticia.” It isn’t until we are much older that we understand why they did what they did. I’ve still got many years to understand why my father is the way he was and is. My dad was born in McAllen, Texas, but lived most of his childhood in Cerritos, San Luis Potosi, what was then a pueblo, but now a city on the outskirts of San Luis Potosi, San Luis Potosi. He would jump from place to place for the first six years of his life, finally settling down at the age of six to live with his mother’s parents and his three younger siblings. For the next six years he didn’t see or hear from his parents until they came back for him at the age of twelve. “Era muy dificil convivir con ellos, especialmente con tu abuelo,” he said, once he got reunited with his parents. “No lo conociamos y era muy diferente su forma de ser a la de mis abuelos,” making his teenagers inscrutable. The first few months were tense, he didn’t know how to act or what to expect from his father. “A pesar de tener una buena posición económica nos llevaba al rancho a trabajar de ocho a diez horas.” He felt like he was just another worker leading him to leave his house at the first chance he got. Leaving behind everything and everyone he knew. He left for Chicago to live with his Aunt for the next six months. Since, he had no money the first few weeks he spent cutting grass, and, later on, working for a construction company that would eventually go broke. Forcing him to go back home. Despite of all his hardships, him leaving made the relationship with his father even more tense. After, three months of being back home, he decided that Dallas would be his next stop. Once there, he spent next five years living with his best friend’s dad sleeping on the floor of a small apartment. Eventually, he would meet my mom, Maria De Jesus Castañeda, and get married two and a half years later. At length, up until a few years back money had always been a problem. While still residing in Dallas my parents were forced to move into my aunt’s house, in the course of my mom’s pregnancy. Once she gave birth to my older sister they moved to Laredo, Texas. For a period of time they moved back and forth, traversing from Laredo to Nuevo Laredo. Until I was born, they permanently moved to a mobile home in Buena Vista, South of Laredo, where we would live for the next six years. But that’s were more problems arose. At that time gang activity triggered danger in our neighborhood. My mother, fearing for our lives told my dad to do something about it, get a better job, get another job, to do anything, but to get us out of there. He did nothing. Nada. Zilch. He got too comfortable in the position he was in. He never strived for better, so my mom took action and somehow racked up five thousand dollars to move us to Mines, where we have been living for the past 12 years. Life was relatively good, prior to my sister’s problems. About three years ago, she started dating druggies and rebelling towards my parents. My mom tried to control her, but the more she tried to control her, the more she defied her. At the beginning my dad tried to put his two cents about how to solve the situation; but my mom would under mind his authority and she would take over. Throughout …show more content…
He’s given us everything his father never gave him most importantly love. He’s always been there, not emotionally but physically and that’s somewhat reassuring. He always brought home the bacon, enough so that we could subsist. He sometimes lacks the initiative nonetheless he’s hardworking. He never gets angry and has a great outlook on life, but most importantly he’s genuine. Money doesn’t buy him. But his greatest perfection and imperfection is that he loves