Family Narrative Essay

I can still remember getting back from school one day and asking my mom “where’s dad?” Finding out that my dad was in prison was really hard for me especially because I was at the age of 9 where I didn’t fully understand what was going on. I remember my mom telling me that “everything will be ok as long as we pray we will get through this together”. I was unaware of the physical and mental struggles that I was gonna have to endure with him being gone. Life got really hard for me, it felt like my world had just been crushed.

     The 1950’s were a decade of growth and expansion. Growth of the middle class, expansion of religion and a growing economy kept Americans on the move- literally. Families were moving from the cities and into the suburbs. “This massive shift in population from the central city was accompanied by a baby boom that started during World War II. Young married couples began to have three, four, or even five children (compared with only one or two children in American families during the 1930’s) (The American Story, pg. 729). This style of living began making the immediate

As the talk went on, I felt myself ready to have a breakdown. I didn’t know how to respond without my feelings getting ahead of me. I had never gone through something like this before. I was trying to sort it all out in my head and understand the why’s and the how’s of everything and the past. The past is something I’ve never really wanted to deal with.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t do it anymore. You made me the happiest woman on Earth, and you were the world to me. For now, we must part ways, I’ll see you again soon, your loving wife…” I read aloud.”No!” I wailed, “Don’t be gone! Don’t leave me…” I held her close, unnoticing of the blood that now stained my shirt. All that was there was the feeling of my wife’s cold, limp body in my arms, and the hot tears that streamed down my face in rivers.

To my surprise, I hugged him. We sobbed together. It had been a rough night for the both of us. It was a mistake we would both never forget, but mistakes were made to learn from, not to cry over. I looked at him and in that moment I forgave him. I don’t know why I did. I vowed I never would, but in that moment, I knew I had forgiven him. There was no way I could stay mad at him, not with him this heart broken. It was hard enough seeing him

Growing up I dreamed of my first daddy/ daughter dance at school, walking at graduation and seeing my father stand up and yell out “that’s my daughter!”, having my father walk me down the aisle on my wedding day and countless other things. Ever since I was about 6 years old I have had a question on my mind, who could my father be and how can I be sure? The man who I used to call my father, Dan, put that question in my head when one day he said to me, “you have no right to call me dad because I am not on your birth certificate and I never will be because I am not your father.” That day was the day that changed everything for me. I knew I wouldn’t have someone to do those things for or with me. Knowing I wouldn’t have someone there to be proud of me I began to push myself to be a better person and to be successful to make myself proud, but the question never went away.

I don’t care where you go, I have too much going on to deal with you.”. Again, all my response was “Alright.”, and there I was packing my stuff up from the home that I thought was mine and all I could remember was just pondering that I don’t want my brothers to see me leave. What I recall before like makeup or those cute boots from Forever 21 that were important weren’t, all I needed was a home to love me and care for me. I called my boyfriend Adrian and that is where I was soon to reside, and as I waited for him to come the minutes were like so many and all I wanted was to be relieved, to feel it. There I spotted him, no not my boyfriend, my

My real dad that is. We always used to get questions like “which dad?” Our answer was either “my real dad” or Preston. It is not easy living between two houses and having to pack up your clothes and things every other weekend gets pretty exhausting. My sister Aleah and I did not hold the grudge against my dad for leaving us, but when it is written on papers that you have to go, you have to go. This time around it was different. I was praying every night that things would get better because I could not imagine going through this a second time. I was not ready for my mom to tell me that it has come to this situation again. As all stories have their sad parts, this one of course does. I began to pack up the things in my room and I would cry as I did. My mom had found an apartment that she could afford for her, aleah and I. My sister and I were excited about moving because we had been in the same house for the last 14 years and we wanted a change. Only we had forgot the reasoning, the splitting of our family. I thought to myself “why?” “Why does this have to happen to my family.” Everyone deserves to be happy in life. When we moves to the new apartment, I watched my mom cry for weeks and weeks. I always felt like no one knew the pain that my family went through. I never took my

Unable to do anything but sit there in the same spot, I watch the doorway, as though he would come back if I didn’t move. I don’t cry until the others are asleep. I’ve heard of shattered hearts, broken hearts, but I don’t feel like that. It’s like a crushing weight that presses on my body. It’s something I fight with every breath to rise against, and every time it takes a little more of me. How could he leave me? How could he make me choose?

No no NO!!” All my emotions hit me like a train. Both of us started to cry. I started shaking harder and pulled a pillow to my chest. J started sobbing and yelling at me at the same time. I tried to speak to J and tell them that we had to break up, that it was the only thing that made sense. I had to hear their voice break with every word, to hear them so utterly heartbroken and it was all my fault. I sat on the floor and put my arms on their shoulders to hold them still. J looked into my eyes and then shoved my back hard, throwing me against the wood of my bed. They stood up and started to rip off the necklace and bracelets I made them and threw them at me. I couldn’t speak anymore and I just listened as J yelled at me. They said I’d betrayed them, that I was the only good thing in their life and I was ripping away their happiness, that I was wrong and that it was all my fault, and a billion other things that all hit me like knives to the chest. J came closer to me and I looked up in time to see their hand coming at the side of my face, hitting me hard enough to knock me sideways. J then turned around and stood there crying while I laid on the floor. Then they spun back around quietly and sat down, completely calm. They smiled in a way I’d never seen them smile before, and I felt petrified to the core. They knew they had me with what they said next. “Maybe you’ll care more when you see my name in the obituary.” I broke. I started having a severe panic attack,

My Name is Glenessa Young. We spoke at the end of the spring semester in regards to your Family Studies 201 course, section 101, held on Wednesday at 5:00PM - 7:40PM in room LA2114. I am currently waitlisted. My position on the waitlist is number one. I just wanted to inform you on the status. I am looking forward to attending the first lecture next week.

The helplessness I felt as I sat clenching my head in the darkened, brisk night. The words “ I will always love you no matter what”, reminiscing in my head like my favorite melody. The feeling of his hands riveting my face as he gave me one last kiss overwhelmed me with heartache. The pessimistic stare Scott gave me as he proceeded to say, in a sorrow manner, “Goodbye Jo”, haunted me forever. The moment I never thought would come about came into prospective right then, he was no longer mine.

I felt helpless. He trapped her in a cycle of abuse. When she tried to leave, he threatened to kill himself, promised to stop berating her, showed up with flowers, and made her feel confident. Later that day he tore her down again. I understood that there was no escaping him, but I couldn’t stop it. I needed to be the one person

Everybody has that perfect thought about how puppys are a soft, fluffy, loyal little companion. What’s wrong with having a puppy, besides everything. I was on a two hour long car trip to look for a puppy that I could call mine. When I arrived there I was so excited! I jumped right out of the van and went right up to the door. “Come on mom!” I yelled. The rest of my family walked nonchalantly up to the door where I was waiting. My father knocked on the door and a minute later, a older lady came to the door and greeted us with a smile.

One of my favorite places to go as a kid was to the reservoir with my family. We would start packing a few days before we left then my brother and I would go to school on a Friday then afterwards we would go camping. Every time I would hurry home because I was so ready to go camping. When I was little I felt like my family and I went camping everyday even though it wasn’t. I have so many memories from camping and there so funny.