The Importance Of Travel To Peru

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My sister and mom have always wanted me to travel to Peru with them and I’ve always refused. I never wanted too because Peru brings back sad memories and it’s a constant reminder that my mom always preferred Peru over us. My sister traveled by herself over there and had an amazing time she said. My mom and little brother had also traveled and she made sure he had fun as well. When I was younger we use to travel every summer over there and always had a good time. After 12 years I decided to travel back to Peru to visit family members and friends whom I haven 't seen in a very long time. My mom and sister came along as well. We were there for two weeks, it was time well spent. On our last day there we were meeting up with an old family friend …show more content…

She had said she knew this would be the last time seeing me, she was so certain of it. Unfortunately, it was the last time she saw me. She had passed away, she had cancer. Hearing her tell me this story made me more sick. I felt guilt and sadness. I wanted to run out and cry. I knew she was sick and didn 't even bother visit her. I didn 't say goodbye. That was part of the reason I didn 't return to Peru. I felt like there was nothing left there for me. I understood why cecille was wearing all black and why that’s her go to color every day, she’s still mourning. She still hasn 't been able to let go. She’s the type of person who wants to drink because she’s sad and alone. I could see the tears in her eyes and her really fighting them from streaming down her face. She can’t hide her sadness and I can see my mom joining her in the conversation about how hard it is to lose someone you love dearly. They keep repeating to us how much they miss their mothers and how much they really needed them. This was my most memorable and emotional meal because not only were we inside an amazing restaurant but it so happens that everyone there was enjoying …show more content…

I admit it has been weird having him sleep over. Brings back good memories. Especially on Sundays. When I was younger and my parents were still together Sundays were the days I always looked forward too. On Sundays my dad would either go buy breakfast from outside or he would cook at home. This particular Sunday he decided to cook. My brothers and I are all sitting down by the table waiting for our mom and dad to finish preparing breakfast for us. The only thing my mom was really doing was taking out the cups, plates, bread, spoon, and fork. She was really just setting up the table for us. Reason for that being is Sundays were the days my mom had off; she didn’t have to do no cooking or cleaning. Sundays were the days my dad did everything. Sometimes Saturday too but that was if he didn’t have to work. I can smell the fried pork with sweet potato’s and over ease eggs on the side with some rice and beans and oatmeal almost ready to be devour in my mouth in a couple of

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