This all started when I was four years old. My mom is from Guanajuato, Mexico. She was twenty when she found out I was on my way. Her parents were ashamed that she was pregnant but wasn't married. She ended up getting a visa, so she decided to come to Anaheim, California. She stayed with one of my aunts while she was pregnant and up until I was two years young, On October 17, 2003 I was born. We had a couple of family members here, mostly out aunts so they provided my mom with a stroller, diapers, and everything she needed. Once I was born, everything started to become a bit more complicated. My mom wasn't working so she had no way to buy me anything. My aunts would take my mom to the thrift store and they would buy me clothes. As time passed, my mom got more and more stressed. So once I was two, we went back to Mexico. We ended up staying there until i was about three. My mom always wanted what is best for me, so once again we came back to …show more content…
My aunt would babysit me while my mom was at work so that my mom wouldn’t have to pay so much money for a babysitting place. My aunts and uncles were extremely helpful throughout my childhood. When my mom was working at Northgate, she started talking to a guy named Gerardo. They talked for about a year or two and decided to move in together. They were the average couple. They would go out to eat, to concerts, etc. I was happy with both of them together. When I was five, I had my first sister and her name was ariana. When we were growing up, that’s where all of the problems started. My mom was always had a lot of friends. She was a very attractive woman, and I am not just saying that because she’s my mom. Gerardo would not let her have a cellphone because he wouldn't like people texting her all the time. I think that he was always insecure about himself. He probably felt easily replaceable and he was just scared. That was not a reason to not allow her to have a
I dont really know what im doing, seems like i never have. From being in grade school and not knowing why God put me here to being in high school and still wondering the same thing. You said you wanted something interesting, yet not sad, but those two things are like best friends.
aside when she was born and he probably had been emotionally damaged ever since then.
When I left Mexico to come to the United States at the age of 10, I left my familia behind and continue the journey to the "American Dream." I never forgot the memories that I had cherished throughout my childhood years.
I am a first generation Mexican American; my parents were both born in Mexico. They migrated to the United States at a young age to obtain a better life. My mother met my father when she was about sixteen years old in Planada CA. Shortly after dating for a couple of months, my mother eloped with my father. About a year
One thing that really bothers me is how much I changed. I used to play games all day, not focus on school, wouldn't get in serious trouble, and was very innocent compared to my present day self. There are cons and pros of my past self compared to how I am currently. I am more happy of how I am now then I am before. As time changes, so do I and I can not stop that. What’s done has already been done and can’t be changed so you always have to look towards the future and never the past. The past will not definite who you are today unless you let it. I would have never expect that I would be transferred to a continuation high school in my freshman year. It is a bad thing to many people, but I am thankful that I am sent to it because I will learn
What makes person a hero? Is it fighting for your country in war, rescuing a “damsel in distress,” or being the one to discover cancer? All of that is heroic, but being a hero can mean many things and be the simplest things. To me, it is being brave and strong when all seems doomed. It is sacrificing things for the better of someone else. It is the smallest act of kindness that was not expected. My mother, Susan Marie McCartney, is my hero.
It was extraordinary, indescribable, breathtaking. I looked out of the window next to me, and before my eyes was the view of a clear, blue sky, covered in sheets of snowy, white clouds. Slowly we began descending through them, revealing the expanse of blue water, stretching in every direction of the horizon. In the far right I could see a glimpse of main land, but not just any land, India. It was there and then, that I knew my life would be changed forever.
My family immigrated to the United States when I was around eleven years old. We lived with our uncle before moving on to buying our own house.
Since moving to Texas, we have visited Mexico every summer and winter. I love everything about going back, from the long car rides, to my grandmother’s the face of when she sees us turn the corner. However, I had one very special trip to Mexico when I was seven that is still vivid in my memory. It was three in the morning, and we just started our trip to Mexico. I was uncomfortable and tired. I complained that it was too early to be awake and the big white trash bag on the seat was preventing me laying down. As my mother tried to move the bag, I asked what was in it. She said it was full of my old clothes. She then explained, that unlike me, some kids in Mexico couldn’t afford clothes.
Some people, some great people deserve to live forever, or at least die in a worthy or in a fulfilling way. I just got the short end of the bargain, I just got one of the worst things on this earth, cancer. Anyone can get the disease, but the way I see it, it seems unfair and unruly that pure souls could end up with a painful and undeserving demise. Unfortunately, I was one of those pure souls.
By the time, I was growing up I was three to four years old and I was living with my grandma in Mexico. She’s the nicest old lady that knows how to cook. Yes, I did know who my parents were. My mom and dad were here in the united states with my older brother and sister who were in the age of seven to ten years old at the time. My parents had been living in the United States since they were 13 years old and my parents used to tell my grandma to let me go to the USA. I never wanted to because of jealousy and the attention my older brother and sister would get. One day I decided to go. Staying with my parents
Since birth the one person that was always by my side except for my family was my Grandma. Once my parents needed to go back to work she was there everyday to watch over me. She took me with her every where she went and was proud to show me off and that she had such a wonderful grandson. My Grandma was around for all of my “firsts” that happened as an infant. I think that most of them can be accountable to her. I was never hungry since she always kept me full and when it came time to walk and talk she was there. A lot of our free time was spent chasing my old dog around the yard and petting the horses or going to the park. She was there every step of my infant years and through my younger years.
When I was 11 I watched my mother abruptly become a single parent responsible for four daughters, two of which were still in diapers. I became the full time babysitter and raised my two younger sisters for years, despite being a child myself, while my mom worked several jobs at a time.
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.
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