Louise-Personal Narrative

Amy Lyles Wilson father’s passed away and left her mom widowed. Her mom now had to deal with not only grief but learning to do many things that she had never done before. She was a fast learner so learning how to do things she’s never done before wasn’t hard, it just took courage. For example, pump her own gas or any car mechanics but even throughout the obstacles that her mom had been challenged with after her dad passed away she learned that always, and she means always, you keep going.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing. out here its like i'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself if I could just come in I swear i'll leave. won't take nothing but a memory from the that built me. Some of you might know what song this is the chorus of. This paper is about how my life relates to Miranda Lambert's song The House That Built Me.

She has been one that needed to be dragged along kicking and screaming, even hanging onto for dear life: a truck door, a leg(grandma’s, mine, her dads…), her brother, whatever she could grab ahold of if she wasn’t ready for what was next. As with her birth, gracefully almost unexpectedly, she slide right on through, seamlessly, ready to take life head on, the timing was hers and hers alone. It’s a delicate balance and a dance not of a minuet or rumba but more like a mambo with a delightful lift of a waltz watching her grow-up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Philip, everyone I’ve ever loved had either died or left me and I’ll be damned if your name is added to that list!” You screamed, tightening your grip on his hand that you still refused to

Swiveling the knife around in a playful manner, she gave me a deep cut in my wrist. The reason why I remembered this was because, I ran to my grandfather and he took a look at the cut and poured sugar in in my wounds. He knew what to do in moments of crisis, he provided for his family and protected us. I have the fondest memories because of the childhood I had growing up in my grandfather’s countryside house. Throughout our lifetime we go a series of learning experience, that changes your perspective of things around you. I went from the excitement of commencing my last fall semester of college, to feeling discouragement and sadness for losing a role model, a protector, an unconditional Love, and a generous person in our

The skin she’s in can’t hold her, She’s starting to overflow. Everything on the outside is all that she’s ever known. It used to be so simple, but now there’s nowhere to run. She’s pulling herself apart now, and she’s starting to come undone. Now that she’s gone and all he did was wait. His breath is so cold and he’s wasting away blood on his hands. His life been made. He tells her to stop but the stories never fade. He saw her bleeding, a sight never seen. When she was always hiding, making her plate look clean. Breaking his mind, Swallowing pills. Maybe it’s time for a refill. One more bottle turns into four, shattering his hope till, he’s lying there on the floor. Now that she’s gone and all he did was wait. His breath is so cold and he’s

That you will stay strong, no matter what happens to me. I love you, my dear Sienna.” Caught off guard and shaken by her mother’s words, Sienna sheds a tear before responding, “I promise.” That was all Dayna needed; acknowledgment. Turning to face her mother, Sienna scoots closer and closer to Dayna; she might not like what is happening, but she is old enough to understand that her mother means well. Dayna wipes away stray tears that have inhabited Sienna’s pale cheeks, her thumb gliding smoothly, gently, over her daughter’s cheekbone. They fall asleep together, exhausted from crying, just like the night before; but now, Sienna and Dayna understand the true meaning of family, of love: The bond of their relationship is much stronger than any sickness. They will always, always, have each

When my mother walked away from me for the last time, I could feel the disappointment in every step, right up until she turned the corner and disappeared from my sight. And I just stood there, watching her go, thinking about what she had told me: “I don’t know how you’re going to live your life alone, Charlotte.”

That night, we played the piano together, my father and me. We sat side-by-side on the bench, our shoulders touching, fumbling through a rusty repertoire from the practice lessons that my mom used to give us. With Lorraine cradled in her arms, Krista and Daniel danced, spinning in the middle of the carpet as our fingers played one off-key disaster after another. But my dad and I didn’t care. To us, the songs were sweet, the most beautiful we’d heard in years.

Lucy was a little curly-haired girl, she was usually well behaved but sometimes her desire to discover new things got the best of her. She had a large house out in the country and lots of clothes and toys, this was mainly because her parents were always working. Although Lucy had a wonderful nanny who was always available to play with her and attend to her every need, she wished she had a real companion. One day,on her parent’s day off, Lucy and her mom and dad decided to go out and do some shopping. As they walked by the pet shop, Lucy put her face up against the glass and stared at the puppies inside the window. Lots of little puppies came and put their faces up to Lucy’s, she smiled. But then she noticed the littlest of all the dogs sitting over on a blanket looking longingly over at his siblings. As she stared into his warm brown eyes, she knew she had found her companion. It was time to

The silence that had once consumed the air was now gone, as by my brothers continued their card game. Things were settling a little, but tears began to creep out my Ma’s eyes. Though she pushes and hides her emotions, I can still see her discomfort and uneasiness laying behind her eyes. YOU ARE HERE

Jacquez whatever happens son I’ll always love you.” Maybe He knew this would happen. Making me laugh even though he was hurting. He was so tired all the time but never let me know that. He was once all I had in the world. Daddy was gone and never seen but once. I’m in pieces. Looking for answers , and the answers are all over the test. I can’t seem to find the test because it’s torn. The paper is ripped. The separation of Dad and child. The separation of what’s once yours. The separation of a bond seemed to never be able to be broken. Some days I hate myself for forgetting how his voice sounds at times. His voice is my comfort place. Many people think of their comfort place as an island in paradise. My Island in paradise is his voice. I’ve never craved anything so much. I just want him here. But I guess I’ll have to live with it. Dad, wherever you are. I need you now. I can only hope that you’ll understand and come to my side.I can only hope that you remember me. I’ll totally understand if you don’t. Nobody can compare to you. I don’t remember you as much as I should, but I think about you

My eyes shut peacefully every night to the sweet hum of my mother’s voice. I was genuinely blessed to have both my parents tuck me in at night when I was an infant. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” by Israel Kamakawiwo’Ole was blissfully murmured into my ears until the age of four. Hope was something my mother always prayed for, and with this tune, she could sing for it too. My mother, having severe Crohn’s disease, struggled with everyday tasks along with taking care of me and my four other siblings. Hope was vital in a sizable family like this and a sick mother like mine. I gained my strength from her as she reminded me even on the darkest of days there is hope. I only grew up with two out of the four siblings my parents raised; The other two being my half siblings. We grew up in a courageous and content family that always pursued hope; Even in the worst of times.

My mom slipped away from the circle, her tennis shoes crunching softly on the carpet of pine needles as she headed for my family’s tent. Moments later, she returned with her guitar. She strummed it lightly, taking her seat on a bench

Your gaze landed on my wrists, on scars from when I was too dumb to create the graveyard in a hidden place. The flash of pain across your face was like you were being struck by lightning: it came and left in an instant, but that single moment hurt so badly. You tugged at the ends of your sleeves, letting your hands be swallowed by the fabric as if they are too self conscious to be seen. But why would you be so afraid to show yourself to the world? You 're perfect....