When I was young my parents were very poor. They both worked hard to support the family. When my father passed away from cancer, my mom's life was harder than ever before. After my mom lost her job at the drugstore, she decided to take my sister and me to the countryside to live with my grandfather so that she did not have to worry about taking care of us, finding a new job, and working all at the same time. Since my grandpa came to visit my family every year, I never had a chance to go to my grandpa's house. This was the first time I had gone such a long way from home. My grandfather lived in a small town in a rural area of the state. His house was surrounded by corn fields and was located along a small river. In the dry season, a person can wade across the river with the water coming up only to one's chest in the deepest part. My grandfather's house was at one end of the town, a long way down a narrow road. It was located far away from the traffic and lights, but surrounded by shadows and rustling trees. It was fenced off by many rows of large oak trees. The ancient roof was patched with pieces of tin and the walls were covered with faded wallpaper. In the bedroom, two old beds were set on either side of the room. There was very little furniture in the main room: a large wooden chest, a table and four chairs, and three figurines--the sole decorations in the house. I liked the figurine of the old Ship Captain with his black beard, chubby cheeks, pipe, and stout healthy body. His eyes seemed to speak and to look out for our family. In every way, both his physical appearance and individual characteristics seemed to represent my grandpa. One of the fondest memories I have of my grandpa was when he woke me up early in the mo... ... middle of paper ... ...r. When I attended a new school, nobody talked to me or made friends with me. They seemed hostile because I was new and “countrified”. Eventually, I adapted to the city life-style. I made new friends and new memories, but my childhood memories were still the best; these were memories that I never forgot and always dreamed that someday I would find them again. I felt so lucky that I had the chance to live, to learn, to explore life in the country. Four years of living in grandpa's house with grandpa was a great experience and adventure for me. I feel that I never left my grandpa's home. I accepted grandpa's home as my home although I was not born and raised there. I grew up under the nourishment and love of my grandpa for only four years, but the time I spent living in the country with him taught me to value unconditional love, family life, and community support.
In her childhood, my mom grew up in a poor family in the projects located in Hoboken, New Jersey. Her family didn’t have much money and they only relied on my late grandpa to earn money by driving taxis. When my mom was in high school, she got her first job working as a secretary in the Hoboken City Hall, but during that time her older brother, Bobby, passed away from AIDS, and later in 2001 both of her parents, Carol Ann and Robert died from smoking problems. Even though these circumstances were hard on her in her life, she managed to do great things like going to Palmer College
I have always grown up around the influence of hard work. My mother and father’s life together began off to a rough start. My mother got pregnant at the age of 20 with my brother. Her family was not very supportive of it; therefore, she was on her own. She used to tell me about how she would sit and cry in a one bedroom apartment that she lived in with my brother wondering what she was going to do. Although she had to grow up faster than she
Since my father remained in Haiti while we made our home here in the states, by the time I was in my late teens I soon realized that I was the leader of my family. The apartment complex where we lived was increasingly becoming unsafe and it was very clear that I had to move us out of that environment into a safer one. I worked hard and saved up and when I was 23 years old I was fortunate enough to have my first major accomplishment by purchasing my own house where I moved in my mother, my 3 sisters, my younger brother, and occasionally my father. It made me feel good that I could provide a safer living environment for my entire family.
Life in the middle school and high school was not easy for me. I had become an introvert, I still didn’t know how to be social, and I had very few friends. I was teased for being very quiet, and some people insinuated that I’m scared of fellow people. On the other hand life at home was difficult. My mother had become so bitter and pleased her was next to impossible. She became very harsh with my brother and me, and we were always scolded for even the smallest mistakes. Once in a while, my father would come for us and take us to the city he lived. I would look out of the windows as we drove out of town and would imagine how life in another city would feel like. I looked at the skies, and all I saw were promises of a better future. All my life I had lived in San
As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……
As the youngest of five children she was often overlooked. The pride of the family often overrode the opportunity to receive health care, handouts and a decent chance to become something. My mother spent her childhood in a tiny house with her family and many relatives. She was never given the opportunities to excel in learning and life like my generation has. My grandfather was a carpenter and on that living fed many hungry mouths. But despite this already unfortunate lifestyle my mother maintained good grades and was on a path to overcoming her misfortune.
Parenthood is the hardest job anyone could ever have and it demands the constant attention of two loving parents, but what happens when one parent is left with the care and responsibility of a child. Well my mother had the burden of raising two kids, holding down a full-time job, and attending school. With her busy schedule it was hard on me because I was on my own almost of the time that I needed help whether it was to feed myself or if I needed help with homework. My mother knew I was having a hard time acclimating to our new situations so she took it upon herself to teach me to become as self sufficient as a 9 year old boy could be. I first saw this as a disadvantage, but quickly learned that it had become a blessing in disguise. Under the
Growing up in a single parent household was a struggle. My mother worked very long and hard so that I could get what I wanted and needed as a child. To this very day she works just hard, if not more. My mother had me at the age of sixteen, although she was just a child herself, she has raised me well. It was hard for her to manage everything but she found a way. When I was eight years old my mom had to take in my older cousin, Longris, due to the passing of his mother. It got harder on my mom because now she had an extra person to provide for. Through these hard times another cousin of mine, had to move in with us due to his mother’s passing. From this point it got even harder to manage bills and taking care of a household. Despite all of our challenges we found a way to make it. This taught me
My mother was taking care of me, and my three other siblings all alone by herself. When my father was living my mother only had one job, but now she had to work more. She had a massive impact on our lives by making sure we had everything we needed. Because I was the oldest of my siblings, I felt like I was a parent. At just eight years old, I had to skip school just to make sure my siblings had someone to look after them while my mother worked. I was obligated to feed them, give them baths, and put clothes on them. It was very difficult, but I knew my mother had to pay bills, and take care of us and herself, so I knew she couldn’t afford a babysitter. When times got very tough, my mom would get stressed out and take it out on us by throwing tantrums, hollering at us and beating on us. I didn’t have a choice but to encourage my mother, and be the one to push her to not give
I remember vividly the weekends at his house. Sitting on his lap, going to wrestling matches, walking down the street or through a park--these were things I did with Grandpa. I wasn't just a kid to him: I was his granddaughter, and I was special. He was special too.
Growing up, I was raised by a single mom who gave birth to me while attending college which meant we didn’t have a lot. I still remember being woken up early in the morning by her and driven to my grandparents where they would watch me while she took on 2 shifts each day. Because of the amount of hours, she would work my grandparents took on the role of taking me to my school functions and sporting events. Although it was hard not always having my biggest fan there to cheer me on I knew inside that she would give anything to be there watching but someone had to put food on the table. We had to move quite often due to my mom’s job constantly relocating her to different branches. By the time, I had entered the 1st grade my mother and I were moving into our 5th residence in the Houston area. I was still in my adolescence so moving never seemed to bother me as long as I had my toys and a TV I was pretty content.
When I was about five years old, my parents got a divorce. I lived with my mother from the age of 5 to about the age of 12. Throughout those 6 or 7 years, I shared a home with 5 sisters. Under the support and protection of my mother, we were hardly financially stable. We were required to live for days and even weeks without electricity. With my mother working overtime, we had to prepare our own meals with the little resources that we were able to obtain.
It was a maddening rush, that crisp fall morning, but we were finally ready to go. I was supposed to be at State College at 10:00 for the tour, and it was already eight. My parents hurriedly loaded their luggage into the van as I rushed around the house gathering last minute necessities. I dashed downstairs to my room and gathered my coat and my duffel bag, and glanced at my dresser making sure I was leaving nothing behind and all the rush seemed to disappear. I stood there as if in a trance just remembering all the stories behind the objects and clutter accumulated on it. I began to think back to all the good times I have had with my family and friends each moment represented by a different and somewhat odd object.
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much.
While in school, Mom didn’t have it to easy. Not only did she raise a daughter and take care of a husband, she had to deal with numerous setbacks. These included such things as my father suffering a heart attack and going on to have a triple by-pass, she herself went through an emergency surgery, which sat her a semester behind, and her father also suffered a heart attack. Mom not only dealt with these setbacks but she had the everyday task of things like cooking dinner, cleaning the house and raising a family. I don’t know how she managed it all, but somehow she did.