Cambry: The Destruction Of My Family

She lost her parents at a young age, so her grandparents struggled to take care of her and her brothers. Soon after her sixtieth birthday, my mom married my father, and they both welcomed me two years later. I was born in September 1999; unfortunately, five months after my birth, my father died in the hands of a stranger from a gunshot to the head. Although both my grandmother and mother were devastated by his passing, they both decided to once again fight for our future and raise me.

One societal standard is the expectation that the oldest sibling is responsible for the younger siblings’. Being the oldest of the children in her family,

The following months a winter, cold and gloomy, surrounded the house. My grandmother came to stay with us since my father had fallen into depression and needed help taking care of my sister and I. When my grandmother went grocery shopping my sister would struggle with homework without my grandmother’s help. One day when my grandmother left to go grocery shopping my sister approached me, which was unusual of her since its very rare for her to come to me. Her dark brown hair and big eyes reminded me of my self when I was younger. “I’m hungry” she complained, a question she’s never asked me. My father sleeping and my grandmother away, I was the only one left to take care of her and that terrified me. I had never cared for or known how to care for someone else. All I knew was how to evaluate whether or not someone was caring for another correctly.

She told me I needed to be the man of the house despite the fact, I was the second oldest. My older brother continued to struggle and get in trouble as he wrestled with his own demons. I didn’t have the luxury of doing what I wanted. I dropped many extra-curricular activities so I could be home to help my siblings with homework and dinner. Even to the extent that my going away to college was simply to encourage them to do the same when they finished high school.

Pat was isolated during her developmental years. Her social thinking and social influences drove her to adapt to her surroundings and adjust to them. Since, she struggled to walk and she spent most of her time in her crib, and wasn’t able to explore her surroundings at an early age. As she reflected on her developmental history, she realized she was never close to anyone in her family. After, her dad left home, at the age of seven, her siblings also left at the age of sixteen. Her mom worked all the time and was often tired and/or sick. Her social influences were few and the ones she did have were negative. Pat also mentioned how her parents were always fighting, and how her siblings and herself we afraid of them. Throughout her developmental

When I read “Once More to the Lake” by E. B. White, I was jealous of the father and son’s close relationship as it reminded me of my grandmother and mother’s close relationship. When I was younger I always loved hearing stories about my mother’s childhood because i didn’t feel close to her due to her job. She would often tell me stories about her mother, my Lola, who had died a month before I was born. They were best friends, and my mother would tell her everything. At first they were nice to hear, but as I grew up the memory of the stories became a burden, a constant reminder of my inability to share my feelings, thoughts, opinions, and experiences with my mother. It made me feel guilty that I could not give her the relationship she had with

As, we settled in Palatine, without a father in my life, I basically became a father and a caregiver to my brother and sister. Many days and nights, my Mother, had to go out and run some errands, there would never be anyone to babysit my siblings especially since money is so tight. I would be the one watching them, many times it could be for hours and other times it could be all day. They would often have seizures, which I learned how to take care of and learned how to distribute the emergency medication. Often, I would have to come home from school or practice and help make dinner, clean the house, or help get my brother and sister ready for bed. After doing all of these chores to help my Mother out , and i would still be able to crank out my homework, and still manage to get great grades, because I knew the importance of them. This has always been a stressful situation in my life. My life has made me a better person, everything has matured me, and made me a better person. All of this is a part of my identity/background , it's made me who I am, and prepared me for the life. I'm not the normal football jock, this is my

Born in Haiti to Mr. & Mrs. Lormeus Frederick, my lifestyle as a child was very modest, humble, and supportive. We weren’t rich, nor were we poor; my parents provided food on the table every day and enrolled us in the most prestigious school in the country. Our home was very peaceful and fun. My father had five children from previous relationships while my mother only had two. Being the youngest child, I was always well protected and spoiled by everyone; it got annoying sometimes always being babied as if I couldn’t do things on my own. My siblings and I got along very well, of course we had our misunderstandings at times, but we always stuck together and had each other’s back. I sometimes wish I could go back to that life again.

On January 5, 2009 my father pasted away. He and I did not have the typical father-son relationship; we did not have a relationship at all. I presumed that it would have a little if any affect on me. However, as the semester continued, it seemed to get worse. Besides my father’s passing, several weeks later my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. It was difficult for me to deal with, but it was more difficult for my mother to handle.

Since this essay seems to be getting a bit more personal, I might as well discuss the role I play in my family. I am the oldest child in a family of six children: five girls and one boy. The age differences range from one and a half years old to eighteen years old. I love children, but in a way I really don’t have much of a choice. It is only natural to be somewhat of a second mother to my

AT’s grandmother was abandoned and divorced by three husbands. Her fourth husband helped her raise her two

Interviewee did not mention much about their relationship with their older siblings, but they did mention that they had lost two of their younger brothers and that lead them to the career they are at today.

M is a 65-year-old female who grew up in the Waikato in a middle-classed family with eight other siblings, M was the third child and the first female born. Not know much about her early childhood, however, M remembers her mother was always in the kitchen cooking or baking, cleaning house, knitting and sewing. M’s mother often slept late most days, sometimes until noon and she was the stricter parent and a sharp temper. The children often did not know how their mother was going to react, sometimes she could be nice, but she had a sharp temper and often used to reprimand the children sharply, so they always watched their behaviour.

The first time my mother lived independently, from my grandparents, I was three. We lived with my mom’s sister in a white house at the end of a long dirt road. The house was surrounded by fields of grass and wild flowers. Although my memories of that time are few there was a feeling of overall happiness and wellbeing. My aunt would ride her bike to work every day and my mother and I would run down the road to

My parents took custody of my sister’s children, which then began the chaotic day-to-day home life that usually left me in tears by bedtime. I was in middle school at the time, as a middle school aged girl I felt a whirlwind of emotions. I wanted to do things that other kids my age were doing but that wasn’t always possible. With very mentally handicap children in our home it wasn’t easy to just invite a friend over to come spend the night, not only would my mom say no but also I was far too embarrassed. I wanted to go out and eat in a restaurant like I heard my friends talking about, but no, going out to eat with my sister’s children would be very difficult because they couldn’t sit still or refrain from making loud noises in public places. I wanted my mom to take my friend and I to the movies rather than always going with a friend and their mom, but my mom was always tied down to caring for my sister’s