Growing up I was the poster child for having a perfect life. Everything was always easy and simple. I grew up in a large house with acres of land and many animals. My parents always woke me and my brothers up early every Sunday morning to go to church and made sure that by six we were all at the table for family dinner. No one ever hollered at each other; my siblings and I did not fight except for the occasional teasing. From the outside looking in, most people would have thought I had everything going in my favor. To be honest, I thought I did too, but soon that would all change. Spring of my freshman year of high school, I stood in front of my school, laughing and talking with one of my best friends waiting for my Mother to pick me up. I could not wait to see her and tell her how amazing my day had been. The second I saw her white, Honda Pilot pull into a parking spot I raced over to see her, but it was not my Mom there but my Dad in the driver’s seat. I was confused since usually I would have gotten a text or phone call that someone else was picking me up. He obviously saw the confusion on my face and said: “Your mom is at home with your brother Zach.” I did not understand the whole situation so I began asking my Dad countless …show more content…
I can remember sitting in my best friend Baylee’s bedroom floor a couple of months into my brother’s coma just balling and telling her “I am done. I am done caring. I just want to do whatever I want to do. What is the point of caring anyways; because clearly we never know what is going to happen to our lives.” Baylee’s bedroom that was the only place I had ever felt so vulnerable, to the point where I told her what I hated I thought about most. “I believe Jesus is real but he is not in my life” telling her this made me feel more alone than I had ever felt in my life. By admitting this out loud I realized that there was no hope left for
When my dad and mom met, my mom was only 19 and already had my sister Melody at 17. My dad fell in love with Melody and my mom. He liked my mom so much he lied about his age, he was only 17, but he told her he was 18. About a year later of them dating, my mom got pregnant with me. At that point my parents were gang bangers and did not have jobs. They were barely surviving. Not until about when my mom was 8 months pregnant with me, then my dad realized he was about to be a dad. His eyes opened up because he realized I was going to be his first child. He knew that he was a loser, with no job so he decided to get off his butt and work. Since he had been in jail many, many times, he could not get a job, so he joined the army.
When I was a child I thought everybody’s family would be the same, just your average family like mine and yours. My life as a child was a carefree life, I didn’t care for much, except stuff like doctors or dentist, I’ve done pretty much what an average kid did, I thought we had a good life going. When I went to my classmate’s house or meet their family they seemed like they were average to me. I never thought about how us as a family would have any trouble in the world, I was wrong.
In 1974 my parents met when they were both in the fourth grade at Linda Vista Elementary. They continued to go to the same middle school and the same high school. “After high school me and your dad didn't talk for years.” After the years past they met eachother at a family friend's party about 10 years later. My parents got together and lived in Tracy, California and had my sister Natalia. Four months after my sister was born my mother
For twelve years I’ve tried to hide my pain and fear from you. I’ve been trying to ignore the horror stories, unknowingly blinding myself from the stories of hope. I’m not as bitter as this story may lead you to think. In fact, I am an adamant believer in the statement (overheard three years ago in the Coffee House): “God has never taken anything away from me that he hasn’t replaced with something better.”
A good life is when you enjoy the things you have, and do not need to desire anything else.
We were suffering, my grandma was suffering. I loved that as a family we had each other, but there was no one there to help guide us into repairing the brokenness within our family. We didn’t discuss what was happening, we didn’t discuss what we could do to help each other. Everyone went about their day and kept it to themselves. As a young child and later as a teenager, I found this confusing. I wanted my feelings to be heard. I wanted to hear the feelings of my family. I wanted us to start healing, and I wanted to help. The desire to help others truly began within these terrible times my family was experiencing. I wanted to help individuals and families who going through situations like members of my family were going through. I wanted to give people someone to be able to confide in in their darkest and most vulnerable
It was September 8th 2010, about 8:00 pm my mom had just put Jaclynn, my three-year-old sister to bed. My parents sat my brother Matthew and I down at the dining room table. I was very confused because we only sat at the dining room table for holidays and special occasions. The last time they sat us down this formerly was when my mom was pregnant with my sister. I thought that they were about to tell us that I was going to have another sibling, which would be a bit extreme considering my brother was a sophomore in high school. We sat there patiently waiting for them to explain the reason for this meeting; my mom started explaining that my dad had lost his job about a month ago. My dad said that there was no reason to worry because he had found a new job. I was extremely relieved; I was only thirteen but was old enough to
It was Spring of my freshman year of high school, and I was standing in front of my school, laughing and talking with one of my best friends waiting for my Mother to pick me up. I could not wait to see her and tell her how amazing my day had been. The second I saw her white Honda Pilot pull into a parking spot I raced over to see her, but my Mom was not there. Instead it was my Dad in the driver’s seat. I was confused since usually I would have gotten a text or phone call that someone else was picking me up. He obviously saw the confusion on my face and said, “Your mom is at home with your brother Zach.” I did not
It started when I was a little girl, I think I was about five years old. I grew up in a one parent household, with just my mom. I had three other siblings, two brothers and a sister. My mom was the sole provider of the family. Everything started getting hard for her as we grew. I got curious and asked my mom a question I never asked before. "Mom where is my dad and why isn 't he here to help you take care of us." " Mom said, he was killed when you were a baby." So I never spoke of it again until I had turned about fifteen years of age. I still was curious about what had happened to my father. I started having dreams of my father being around, a man whom i had never seen or meet before. He was just an illusion that I had made up inside my
When I was 4 years old my mother and father broke up. At the time, I was living with both my mother and my father. We lived in a small run-down apartment in Bloomington. Our household was made up of my mother, father, sister, and I. I am not sure what lead to my mother and father splitting, but I know they had many problems. They had been together 8 years, yet neither of them were happy. When my mother and father split up my sister and I were left with my mother. I remember being upset that my father did not take me with him. I remember crying about it and I also remember my mother punishing me for it. This caused me to believe that it was normal for a father to leave, but when I started preschool I realized that was not the case. I felt very confused when other children would talk about their families. Especially, when they mentioned their fathers.
Depending you are a man or a woman, there can be many aspects and opinions of the good life. Depending your rich or poor, there are many aspects. Some people say money is the key to a good life, but I do not think that. The age means something, but I have my opinion and have my own examples, and I will tell you, and can only speak for my self.
I was having a weekend getaway with my cousins when, at midnight, we were told that we had to return immediately. I was unaware of the gravity of why I had to come back home so soon, but I knew that it was severe. When I arrived to the hospital, I found out my brother had suffered a heart attack and passed away. I was numb and didn’t know how to process that information. He was my guiding light on my journey going back to school and coping with the death of my first brother. Instead of crying hysterically, all I could think of was “situations like this need to be prevented.” It could have been easy to give up but perseverance and resilience were my only options. Giving up on my dreams had never crossed my mind but my fortitude grew stronger with every wrench thrown my
After half an hour of waiting for someone to call and my sister and dad to come home also thinking about what to do. I gave up and went to take a shower. When I came out, my bed was made and my mom called me down for breakfast, which I didn’t feel like having. I just drank a glass of orange juice. My mother went to the porch to sit. After a few seconds I decided to join her. Since I had nothing better to do at that moment, I asked her where my sister and dad had gone. All she said was “I don’t know”. I gu...
One day in the midst of summer, my friend Mike and I got off from a hard day of work and were on our way to the mall. While at work we had planned to meet a few people there. I was going to be seeing my friend Jessica who I had not talked to in years. Before leaving, we stopped off at our houses, took showers, and got ready. As I anxiously waited on the stairs for his car to roll into the driveway, my mom said, “Be careful and do not drive like an idiot.” I obviously said alright and she was on her way. Minutes later I see my friend Mike pull into the driveway. I slipped my feet into my shoes and got in his car. We were almost to the mall when his phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Hello?” It was my mom and she wanted to speak to me. Upon putting the phone to my ear she told me that I had to come home right away. She said that my dad had just gotten into a car crash and that I had to come home and watch my sister. I did not know how to break the news to Mike, that what we were anticipating all day would not happen. He was upset, but he understood what was going on. I came home thinking it was the same old same old; he had gotten hit by a drunk driver, the car got totaled, and he was fine.
All humans yearn for some sort of perfection; whether it be the “perfect” job or the “perfect” family, the idea that something is perfect only if there is nothing more to be added and nothing more to be taken away has always been sought after by society. People are constantly pushed to believe by society that those who are famous, have the most money and live the most lavish lives are the people who have a perfect life; completely disregarding their state of happiness. Many are blinded by this unrealistic and invariably unattainable standard and fail to realize the bigger picture, that perfection is the state of being content with oneself and/or their surroundings.