I Didn 't Get A Divorce

I am the youngest of two daughters by two years, and live with my mom and dad. In my family, I’m the one who is the peacemaker. My family has taught me the importance of standing up for myself and others, and to be grateful for what I have. Both of my parents worked hard to give me the life I have now, and have taught me to work hard in life. My dad is a nephrologist, and works hard all day so that I don’t see him often, but when I do, he and I have a great time together. As a result of this, I value the time I spend with my family above almost everything else.

From the time I was born until the age of twelve, my family struggled with the basic necessities of life. My father worked endless hours in a factory, and yet somehow came home with a smile on his face. As a young kid, I never knew we were struggling. The thought had never occurred to me. As I got older I started to realize that my single father was working his life away to care and provide for his two little girls. He completely put aside his well-being because as long as his girls were cared for, nothing else mattered. Life was never easy, but as a young adult today, I have come to accept that my background has been a prerequisite for greatness, for it is our backgrounds that define who we are. The way we are raised, the way we are taught to believe, and the way we are taught to act, make us who we are today.

My family was and is still very important in my life. Sometimes I would become melancholy when I think about how far apart I am from them. On the other hand, I do become enlightened when I think about how both sides of my families are close when I visit them in Missouri. As a child, never really had a birthday party or received a lot of presents, but when my family comes during my birthday, I feel like I’m receiving hundreds of presents. My family makes me feel safe and secure when I’m feeling down.

The love for my family is still there even through all the judgmental things, they only wanted the best for me. Twenty-three more than independent is what family can call memory now. In my opinion, having children at a young age motivates you more in life than you can think of. The first few months of moving always thinking if a tire was to blow out on this highway who could I call? The negativity in my head almost got to me. Seven months later I’m still here, still loving the city, but no longer crying. God got me and hasn’t brought me this far to fail. Back in school and so happy with myself, all in all what I’m saying is never doubt what you can do. Going through tough times and can make you or break you. Surprising my entire and went all the way out the box to do what everyone said I

One day my dad came home from work. He looked really upset and didn’t seem like himself. Him and my mom told my brother, sister and I to come to the kitchen because they had bad news. “Kids, your great grandpa was diagnosed with lung cancer yesterday.” My mom told us with watery eyes. “Yeah,” My dad started, “We just found out this morning.” This was very upsetting and depressing news for my family and I to hear, but we all got through it together. We did this by going to see him as much as we could, even thought he lived three hours away from

That first day, we drove him to the community medical centre despite it being less than a five minute walk away. At just 52 years old he could barely walk. His shuffled slowly from the car on shaking legs. A dull silence fell as we sat in the waiting room, I placed a reassuring hand on my fathers withered knee while he stared into the near distance, barely acknowledging my touch, mute and withdrawn. He smelled of urine and booze, of unclean clothes, the toll that comes from

I wasn’t a healthy child. Some of my earliest memories are of my frequent visits to the doctor for a plethora of reasons, from ear infections to asthma to chickenpox, it seems like I dealt with it all as a little boy. I remember some of my early health problems vividly, but I also remember connecting the doctor with feeling better. At this young age I was also confronted with the threat of the death of my father. Mom picked us up early from school one day, and I could see a look of fear on her face as she sped uncharacteristically fast away. “Mom, where are we going?”, I asked. “Your dad is in the hospital, he’s very sick. We are going to see him.”, she replied, choking on her words speaking to her two young children. “WHAT’S WRONG!?”, my

Everyone in my family has had to go through their own separate struggles to achieve their goals, but we have gone through them as a unit. I have taken from the experiences of my older siblings and learned to work hard for anything that is worthwhile. I have consistently taken, head on, any obstacles that are in my way and worked my way through them.

When I turned 11-years-old my whole childhood began to change my life went from being perfect to everything but perfect. One day I came home to hear the news my father, my best friend; my hero was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. Not knowing the struggle my family was about to take on I just began to cry. I had a million things running through my head what’s going to happen? Will everything be okay? Why him? What is going to happen? With all these things rushing through my head all I could do was cry not knowing this was least worse to come.

I remember the moment my uncle came to pick me up in class. My family wanted me to visit my father. I knew he was in the hospital for an allergic reaction. Many days had passed since I saw him last. Seeing him in the intensive care unit was terrifying. Large blisters covered his body from head to toe. Several had broken down to purple-black sores that looked like his body had burned. Skin swelled up and was oozing all over. Doctors had connected him with machines with tubes all over on his body. I felt he wasn’t coming back home. However, as the days elapsed, he improved, doctors removed the tubes and in fifteen days he returned to baseline. The fact he survived from such a severe reaction astonished me. This incident had a

More than a week has passed since his death yet fierce tears refuse to stop their unending journey down my face. The vivid image of my father lying on that hospital bed. The prolonged degeneration in both mind and body, his ramblings showing truly how far he had fallen, still plague me. The initial confusion that appeared when he first entered the hospital is still fresh in my mind.

Yelling from the top of my lungs at the bottom of the staircase, demanding breakfast and the control to turn on my favorite morning cartoon, everything seemed to be normal. However, the world as I once knew it quickly took a turn for the worse. You see, being the youngest of five, I quickly learned that a quiet house isn’t a normal house. Therefore, as I huffed and puffed up the stairs, snarling because everyone was still nestled in their beds, something quickly caught my eye. My brother, Craig was on the floor rolling back and forth in agonizing pain, he was barely able to make a call for help. Suddenly, my parents were awakened from my screaming and they quickly called 9-1-1. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into days. It seemed like my family was crumbling before my eyes. Suddenly, as I began to lose hope, I looked out of my bedroom window to see my dad carrying my brother in his arms up the driveway. My heart sunk into my stomach because I always saw my brother as a strong, self-sufficient teenager who never accepted help from anyone. Eager to know what happened, my parents sat my three older siblings and myself on the couch and told us the news: Craig has Cancer. Cancer. That’s all I heard. That one word had the ability to weaken the mold that once held my family together for so many years. My family became frantic and then gradually we began to forget how

My family were the ones that built me up. My parents got a divorce in 2014, the summer after 8th grade year. I am the daughter of a loving mother, father, and stepmother. My older brother, Tyler, moved out as soon as he graduated high school in 2014. He and I were very close but when given the opportunity to leave, he took it so I had to learn to how to be adaptable. All these things have taught me that change it good. Change shouldn’t be scary and going through it as many time as I’ve, it gets easier every time. My parents divorce took a cliché toll on me, especially going

Since my parents’ divorce, I grew up in a separated home with just my mother and my two younger siblings. Being the oldest of three and having a single mother, I matured very quickly and psychologically. Growing up, I was always the one who took initiative around the house to help my mom after a long day of work. As a single mom, she has taught me that the most valuable attributes in life are the intangible. She always wishes she could give us more, but for me, being together as a family is

At an early age, with the help of my family, I started to form into the person I am today. My family is a big part of my life and has been since I could remember. If you look at my still life you can see a picture of my family and I in the left corner. In the picture is my mom Tammy, my stepdad Tom, my sister Felicia, and Donnie which is Felicia’s boyfriend of about 5 years. This picture was taken a couple years ago on vacation to Florida. My family is a significant part of my life because they all have been through everything with me. I may disappoint them sometimes but I know at the end of the day that they love me and want the best thing for me.