Memories Of My Family

My grandparents came with me, and since I did not trust my parents, I was always glued to them. At times, when my parents wanted to talk to me, I would be stubborn, and when I did talk, I talked to them directly with bad manners. My parents wanted to take me to places and do activities together, but I would always stay home with my grandparents unless they went with me. This continued on for several weeks, until my grandparents had to go back to China. When they left, I felt abandoned and frustrated. They had spent the past five years raising me, and now they were leaving me behind with people I barely

This incident started when I was around two years old. In my house, I am the youngest out of my two siblings and because I was the youngest, I received what many people called “special” treatment. This is common within all families that have multiple children; the youngest child would always get spoiled and focused on the most. At first, the attention seemed normal; at two years old, I was not capable of doing many of the things that I do today. As I got older, I got accustomed to this sort of treatment and in my head, I thought that this was how all parents should raise their children. I am not trying to bring down my parents or any other parents who spoil their children. In the perspective of the parents, it may seem impossible for their

When I was 8, my dad had a got a new girlfriend, who helped him finalize the divorce and the custody battle. I went from being, for the most part, center of attention and not the “black sheep” of the family, which could have happened easily with 3 other siblings. As the months and years passed, my stepmom started treating me differently. My dad had enough of it, and he and I moved out. My dad invested all his money in the that family and didn’t have the money to buy a house so for a while we stayed with my grandparents. I moved around a little more, for at least 2 months I stayed at my best friends house, then moved in with my brother for a few months. Once summer

A couple months after I turned 5, my mom and her husband (at the time) took us away. In the car was my second sister. We lived with them for about five years. In those five years my third sister was born. All four of us were not allowed any communication at all with our grandparents or my dad. About a year into this whole situation, my sister's dad started to get abusive. Throughout those long, horrible years, he got more abusive though I was aloud to have visitations with my dad. My first sister and me got to have visitations with our grandparents.

My do grandparents found each other and supported each other. Together they both went on to pursue college and graduate. My Grandmother had become a teacher and my grandfather at graduated with a business degree. Starting in 1953 my grandparents had their first child. After having their son, my grandfather signed up for the Air Force. Once he was out they went on to have three more my mother being born in 1963 as the baby. During my grandmother’s years of teaching, she met a young man who also was from a bad family. A mother that was a bad influence and a father that was never around. So my grandparents adopted him. By the time my mother was a age to attend college, my grandparent’s struggled with money and was on the very edge of losing their

At the age of two, My parents had split up. Both of them rather young and new to parenting, decided it was best if they started a new chapter in their lives-without each other. While this split can seem bad, my stepmother entered my life that same year. My stepmother has been in the majority of my life and I have not remembered a day without her. She entered my life when I was two years old and married my father seven years later. My younger self was pretty comfortable with my three parents at first. Until I arrived at kindergarten, I realized other kids did not have the same arrangement as I did. I remember a classmate asking me, “So your parents were never married?”. This was unchartered territory for me, I never was taught the so

In the beginning there was a happy family with two sweet kids. This family is my family.

My parents were teenagers when they got married. It was puppy love, and they felt forced to be married before I enter the world so that they wouldn’t embarrass my grandparents. My mother, Heather, was twenty-one years old when she gave birth to me in 1991. I had no issues as an infant, and I was a healthy baby. However, at two months old, I got salmonella poisoning because my father cleaned my bottles near raw chicken. I spent some time in the hospital until I was healthy. I came home from the hospital, and my mom and dad were getting adapted to taking care of a new infant. At three months old, my mother decided that she and my father were no longer meant to be together and had rushed into marriage to soon. She decided to get a divorce, and it was finalized by the time I was the age of one year old. Shortly after the divorce, my mother met Stephen, and my dad met Dawn. These two people were introduced into my life at a young age, and eventually played the stepparents role in my life. I resided in Buzzards Bay at my grandparent’s house after the divorce. I lived with my grandparents, my mother, and my aunt. My grandparents played a huge role in raising me. Nana helped raise me. She would watch me most of the time as my mother worked two jobs as a young single parent to make sure she took care of my needs and me. From ages 0-7, I was an only child. I was an advanced toddler because my playmates were primarily adults. At one year old, I was talking in complete sentences and I

I have very few recollections of my early years and at what exact age I was able to read and write. Some of my earliest memories are vague on the topic of my literacy. However, I do remember small memories, such as, learning how to write my name in cursive, winning prizes for reading, and crying over every assigned high school essay. Over the last twelve years my literacy has grown rapidly with the help of teachers, large school libraries, my family, and so on. There is always room for my literacy skills to grow, but my family’s help and positive attitude towards my education, the school systems I have been a part of, and the horrible required essays from high school helped me obtain the level, skills, habits, and processes that I use as part of my literacy today.

I have a very small family, all of whom have greatly contributed to who I am today. My family, all of whom are living, include my parents and all four grandparents. Although my family’s beliefs and upbringings has greatly affected me, everything about me has indirectly come from my grandparents. My maternal grandparents and paternal grandparents had a strong influence on my parents, which affected my parent’s upbringing. My maternal grandmother is naturally skeptical and somewhat judgmental. However, she is also very caring and genuinely worries about everyone. On the other hand, my maternal grandfather is very humorous and goofy, but is also somewhat naïve. Although they seem to be very different, they both have similar opinions and

After a month of planning and trying to reach my old mates through their phone numbers, I was in relief. Some of my friends were difficult to contact due to having different corresponding phone numbers. I almost felt like I wanted to tear my hair off my head or want to sock something with my bare fists I made with my hands. However, Rex and Shari were able to contacted, and they helped me reach out to the others. I told them about the broken picture frame and how I found their number in the back of the photo to explain how I still even remembered them. Saturday, July 7, 2035 was tomorrow. For the past month, my wife and I decorated and cleaned the whole dwelling and my son, Ryan, helped me paint the dull living room amber orange, yet he

The air was beginning to cool as the sun set just behind the trees beyond the left field wall. I dug my cleats into the dirt inside the batters box until I felt grounded and secure. Looking down I touched each corner of the plate with my bat as I had done so many times before. Slowly, I lifted my head and initiated the stare down with the pitcher, focusing on the position of his throwing hand preparing myself for the same sequence I had experienced a thousand times. Over my left shoulder, I could hear my coach voice his last words of encouragement and say, “let it rip” as he stood just off the third base line. I was in my element. Everything felt so familiar, yet the result would be quite different this time and the first game of my senior season would unknowingly shape the next 8 years of my life.

From a very early age I knew that I wanted to do something with my life to make other people 's lives better. My mom likes to remind me of the time when I was a small child in Washington, DC.Even with all of the awe and sights to see in DC, she said that I could only focus on all of the homeless people. Seeing a homeless person was new to me, let alone seeing hundreds, but my mom likes to remind me about how I wanted to “make lasagna and feed all of them”.

Have you ever had moments in your life when your own courage or someone else’s courage put you in awe? Was it that moment you saw firefighters rushing down the street to unknowingly help strangers in a burning building? Or, when you saw your baby brother finally build up the courage to ride a bike without training wheels for the first time? For many, the world “courage” has boundless meanings. Courage helped me become a woman and to close a roughly written chapter in my life I thought I could never close.

At the moment of impact, my mind and body were immediately paralyzed by fear. A million thoughts rushed through my head. Did this really just happen? Was I seriously injured? Were the people in the other car injured? I can vaguely remember two men walking up to my car and asking if I was okay. I was moving my mouth to speak, but the words just would not come out. Apparently, I was in a state of shock.