Time Heals Everything
Whenever we were kids, we didn’t quite understand situations as well as we would now as adults. No matter how many questions we asked at that young age, we were still left puzzled. That’s how I felt as a child whenever one of the most tragic moments in my life occurred. I was too young to see how severe the situation was at the time, but now, after growing up, I can understand the misery and depression my family felt.
It was a scorching, summer day in the middle of August when I was mindlessly playing with my cousins in their rather large, spacious pool. The only thing that mattered to me, an energetic 6 year old, was how much longer I could keep swimming without having to get out to go to the bathroom. We had just started a very intense game of tag whenever my grumpy uncle rushed onto the deck; but this time, he wasn’t grumpy. He was scared, but at the same time very calm. He handed my mom the phone and I could tell she was confused by his gentle attitude. Seconds later, my mom rushed off the deck in tears, running towards her car. The only words she kept yelling was, “Life-flighted! He’s being life-flighted!” I didn’t understand what that meant but I didn’t care. I could feel something was wrong by the way my mom reacted and I just wanted to be with her, but she stormed off. All I heard was the sound of her tires squealing as she pulled out of the drive way and out of my sight.
On August 5th, 2001, my dad was making his way across the steep hills of a town known as Colliers. Exploring around different trails on his new flaming red quad, he was only feeling joy and having fun with his friends. Riding allowed my dad to get away from the responsibilities of work and our family. Except this time, this one ...
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...tered and saw what was before me; my stomach got a really bad feeling and I began to breakdown and cry. My daddy was laying on a big white bed with cords connected to him. His arm was wrapped up and he had doctors surrounding him. He was crying which made me even more upset.
My father had broken his pelvis in 4 places. He looked helpless and miserable, something I had never seen until that day. Over time, he learned how to use his lower body again. With the help of my family and the support of his friends, my dad started to get better. The doctors said he would never be able to walk again, but within three months of living in his parents’ house in a hospital bed, being taken care of like a child, he gained back his strength and is better than before. Besides the emotional trauma this incident left on my family, it’s physically like the accident never even happened.
Most individuals have experienced the everlasting joy and love that comes with caring family and friends, but the realization is that agony and despair will always win the war of light and dark, and family and friends are simply just impeding the end result. When a child is born, agony is already set in place, for screaming and crying will commence as soon as the child feels hands clasped on to him. However, this agony is soon met with joy as the child is met with his mother’s soothing heartbeat. Moreover, sometimes this heartbeat never comes, and thus, agony and despair stay within this child’s heart forever. Jimmy Baca, a lost young man who has only witnessed pain in his life, is this child. Furthermore, there comes a time in every individual’s
children faced with the trauma of loss, they are also faced with a myriad of other
...eight years old when my father was murdered. It is almost impossible to describe the pain of losing a parent to a senseless murder.…But even as a child one thing was clear to me: I didn't want the killer, in turn, to be killed. I remember lying in bed and praying, 'Please, God. Please don't take his life too.' I saw nothing that could be accomplished in the loss of one life being answered with the loss of another. And I knew, far too vividly, the anguish that would spread through another family -- another set of parents, children, brothers, and sisters thrown into grief."55
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
In October of 2013 my family’s lives and mine were turned upside down when my seven-year-old cousin was in an accident. My cousin fell through a sliding glass door and cut the main artery in his thigh. He was flown to the Stanford Lucile Packard Children’s Hospital (LPCH) where he spent the next four months having surgeries and fighting for his life. My family spent those four months traveling back and forth from Monterey to Stanford in order to help and support my cousin.
Through the story the protagonist a young teenage boy who loses his mother after her suicide herself is then followed by the death of his father in a car crash. At such a young age this boy describes the pain he goes through by the way he responds with regard to how others treat him. He demonstrates how grief can alter a person
At a stage like this, and feeling this way can be dangerous for a young child’s development. For example, On the ABC show called “The Family”, young Adam was kidnapped during his mother’s rally to promote becoming the mayor. In this situation, his kidnapping affected the whole family in traumatic ways. It effected Adam tremendously because he was only 8-years-old during the kidnapping. Adam would hope that his family would find him. But, as time went on he realized he would never be found (“Sweet Jane” The Family, ABC, Television). Adam was never found because he got sick and passed while he was being held captive. There was another child with him, named Ben, which was also being held captive. Ben was finally able to escape from his captor. When a child loses hope, as Adam did, they never develop a healthy level of hopeful thinking (Wilner, 2011). Another example of a child feeling helpless after a traumatic event is myself. After my aunt passed away, I felt like there was no one to explain or help me with the pain I had and saw (Julien, 2016). My mother, sister, and I would always go to my aunt’s house, in Miami, for the summer. My mother, sister, and I always had a fantastic time with her. Then when I found out she passed, I could not help but to think what her children were going through. When your own mother dies, and you are at a young
Before I was born, my grandfather was involved in numerous surgeries on his left knee to fix torn ligaments as a result of his line of work. As time went on, the physical effort took a toll on his good knee, prompting additional surgeries. At the time, doctors suggested a bone or joint fusion surgery to help with the type of injury he sustained. It was a permanent procedure ultimately resulting in the inability to bend at the joint and making his left leg two inches shorter than his right. Everyday tasks that I had taken for granted, such as driving a car, using the restroom, and even standing for long periods of time became impediments to daily living. Having heard about this traumatic and chronic experience, it remained in the back of my mind for some time. It was not until I was 13 years old when I had my first encounter with an occupational therapist during an appointment that I
...sh children and how they were able to persevere through devastation, heartbreak, and tragedies. "I can assure you, I always grit my teeth and smile," reads the narrator from one of the children's letters to their parents. These children didn't show any signs of weakness and didn’t let their obstacles take over their life. It is very admirable how they were able to endure what they did, yet still make a life for themselves. Now that they are adults, it is clear to see how their experiences shaped them and greatly influenced their lives. The strangers who took these children in are very admirable as well. Their willingness to take in children they didn’t know saved thousands of lives. The greatest outcome of the Kindertransport was that they survived; however, they were robbed of their childhood and were forced to live a life that they had not imagined for themselves.
In December, my father suffered a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. His heart stopped twice during the operation, and he was not expected to survive. He had an intensive recovery period, and I wanted nothing more than to make him better immediately. His trauma had made me impatient and afraid to hope. I was having trouble waiting for things to unfold naturally and wanted to know what would happen in the end. Simple, everyday decisions or occurrences took on great importance.
Everyone has a story, a pivotal moment in their life that started to mold them into the person they are today and may even continue to mold you to the person that you will become, I just had mine a little bit earlier than others. When I was three years old my brother became a burn survivor. It may seem too early for me to remember, but I could never forget that day. Since then, I have grown, matured and realized that what my family and I went through has been something of a benefit to be and an experience that has helped me in deciding what I want to do with the rest of my life.
I made the choice to ride my bike down a steep hill, as a result I crashed. I was hit so hard on impact my bike pedal went just about half way through my leg. This happened at a bad time as the football season started in two weeks. But because I made the decision to go down that hill I was on crutches for two months and the doctors said I was lucky I did not tear any tendons in my knee or even hit a main artery and bleed out on the spot. I was crushed, I remember telling myself “I will never be able to get back to normal”. But I stayed strong, with the help of my family, friends, and even teachers. When I felt weakest I would always think of how much I took the life around me for granted, everyday things that were now made difficult were the most missed. I never thought I would miss walking, running, playing sports, or even showering. But I did. It was like being trapped in a glass box-stuck, forced to watch the World around me. This taught me the importance of living your life to the fullest, and doing what you love with your time, because you never know how much time you have left to do the things you love. With this I learned to truly enjoy just the simplest things in life, and don't take them for granted because you never know when you could be back in the glass box
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.
Having been raised in a household with an ill parent gave me a very different outlook on life. I had to grow up quickly. It was something that made me appreciate every waking moment in life; unfortunately it also made it extremely difficult for me to connect with many children my age. I didn't understand half of the things they did, nor why I was rarely able to play with them. My mother was sick, having been ill since her own childhood. I was sickly. Even my pet dog was sick. Everyone in the house had their own array of problems to deal with. As a child it was hard to make sense of everything happening in life. Back then I was angry that I didn't have anyone to share my interests with. I felt helpless that I couldn't do anything to improve my family’s life. It seemed like everything was out of my hands, and i was hopeless.