Memories Of My Life

I am your pilot this morning, and I will be taking you to Newark, New Jersey. The flight will be about three hours. Sit back, relax and have a good flight. I looked to my left to see my parents on their phones, not paying attention to any of their surroundings. There was a long line of people in the aisle waiting to take their seats, each person pushing large suitcases. In the row across for us, Jack was sitting in the row seat listening to music. Since there was four of us Jack had to sit by himself with two other strangers but he didn’t mind. The engines suddenly started to roar as I started to get pushed gently back into my seat. The front of the plane started to rise from the ground and as soon as I noticed we were up in the air. I took a deep breathe as I took my backpack out under the seat. I grabbed my new book “Looking for Alaska” and began to read. One of my friends gave it to me as a going away gift because she knew I loved to read. After a while, my mind slowly started to drift off onto a whole different planet. I was still in shock that I just left all my friends and I was moving to New Jersey. The whole situation was not processing through my head and I thought that we were just going on vacation to New Jersey, and we were not actually about to live there. Even thinking about having to make new friends and joining a new soccer team sent chills down my body. I am always shy around new people and now I have to break out of my

The most vivid memory I recall is of the first trip I ever made to my happy place, Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. Nothing could ever compare to those 5 days of pure happiness, without a single worry in the world. I truly believe this one little trip shaped the way I want to live the rest of my life.

Even though I knew the day would come, I couldn’t wait until my mother shouted, “Pack your bags! We’re going to Florida.” Right as we stepped foot on the airplane, my stomach had butterflies. I wasn’t sure if they were butterflies of excitement or butterflies of being a little too apprehensive about flying. Primarily before we got to Florida, we flew to Denver, Colorado. The flight took about one and a half hours. Soon after we boarded another airplane that took us to Florida. This flight took longer than the first, three to four hours. Concluding all the flying we landed at an airport

Looking back out of the small window, I catch a final glimpse of corn fields and lonely railroad crossings before they dip below the horizon. For my first time on a plane, the excitement of adventure meets me as I depart from the comfort of home and enter a world unknown outside of Nebraska. Seeing the world in God’s view as the landscape evolves below, I fall in love with flying. Looking down from 30,000 feet and seeing earth on such a vast scale, I realize how much there is to discover.

When thinking of my memories it’s as if you were surfing through TV channels. Some making me wish I could go back to that day and relive it. Some I hope I will never have to relive. Most memories make me smile and think of how much I want to be little again. Although at that age, all I wanted was to grow up and live my own life. My memories can range from being at home to being anywhere but home. Although, some stick out more than others. One of those few fond memories is going to the Dominican Republic with my family.

My first trip to Disney World, now that, that was a memorable trip. That trip was one of the most magical and happiest memories of my life. It was back in 2008, I had just turned 6 years old a few months before we left to go there. It was summertime, and the weather was perfect. I remember being so bored on the way there because I am an only child so I didn’t have anyone to entertain me besides myself. My mom’s side of the family went on this trip with us, and at the time I was the only grandkid, and the only kid at all. So once we finally were almost there I remember passing the big ‘Welcome to Disney World” sign and being so excited I peed my pants--my mom was pretty mad, but my dad thought it was kinda funny so I didn’t get in too much trouble.

I remember the first time I flew in an airplane. My eight-year-old self looked out the window of the terminal I was taking off from, astounded by the large size of the vehicle. Worried, I thought to myself how could something that big fly with so many people? Yet, as the plane took off my worries became excitement. Not only was this my first flight, this was the event that marked the start of my new life, my takeoff from Vietnam to America.

Kevin grit his teeth. His hands strangled the arms of his blue leather seat that were embroidered with white thread. Fear oozed from every pore within his body. His body tensed as we felt the engine roar, saw the turbines spin, and runway come to life. As the plane’s thrusters kicked in, Kevin shut his eyes, but I didn’t. I stared through my window and watched the runway lights gradually merge into a single line of fluorescent orange. Before I knew it, I was gazing upon Philadelphia, hundreds of feet in the air, illuminated by the light of an afternoon’s sun. Our destination, the Marine Corps Recruiting Depot.

Looking back, my childhood memories are a bunch of blurry fragments, which I find myself piecing together. But I feel likes there one memory that I have managed to piece together. It’s the memory of an event that changed my whole entire life. At fours years old, this event, this journey would force me to start a new stage in my life.

It was 7:00 am on a summer morning and I was still in a daze after just being woken up. Today was to the day that I was going to see my sister and as soon as I made sure I had everything, I headed out. My sister lived far and instead of wasting gas to drive, I was going to fly. I was on my way to the airport with my mom and grandma and as we got closer, my heart began to race with fear and anticipation. It wasn’t because I was afraid of flying, because I actually loved it. I loved the way fields looked like worn quilts from so high above. However this time was different, because on this trip, my family would not be accompanying me and I would be flying alone.

My arm reaches for the closest sturdy object near and in quick fear I turn to face our speeding plane against a race of varied shades of blue and purple streaks attacking the glass window. The running sound of the giant jet engines maintaining power through the sparking thunderstorm would continually cause the entirety of the machine to shake, meanwhile a feeling of mid-crisis washes over me, at least 40,000 feet high in the air, my mind struggles to fight off anxiety and instead focus upon more fulfilling concepts that reassure safety such as remaining hopeful. Perhaps, considered a nightmare or rather a beautiful creation, this intense experience accompanied my journey to America. At age eight years, my family made one of the biggest decisions that would greatly impact the course of my life, and this complete twist of a life path would take me from the Middle East, across the Pacific Ocean to the landing in the city of angels, also known as Los Angeles, California.

The night before we began our journey to Orlando, I didn’t get much sleep. My eyes were wide open like an owl most of the night, tossing and turning under my cloudy soft comforter thinking about what awaited me the next 24 hours. I have always been interested about what it would be like to go on a roller coaster, but I hated the feeling of weightlessness like a balloon. I even hated going on elevators, just the thought of all that force sent a shivering sensation throughout my body that made me agonizingly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, there was a roaring lion fearlessness within me that wanted to indulge on this endeavor. In the morning we pack the family SUV as if we were sardines in a can and headed out to Islands of Adventure.

My most memorable childhood event was when I was 15 years old. It was the Fourth of July. A big family vacation a barbeque, over night stay and out of town trip to six flags, and I had a blast the night before me, my mom, sisters and brother packed our bags to stay the night over my cousin house in Goodlettsville ,Tennessee. She had the biggest house ever I thought it was a mansion; six bedrooms two an half bath, a swimming pool, a game/movie room with a nice big kitchen. It was something that I was not use, knowing that we stayed in a three bedroom based on an income apartment on the East side of Nashville.

Throughout this paper I will be writing about my life, starting from my very first memory and ending with my life as it is now. Since I was brought into this world I had an older sister who is two and a half years older than I am. My parents said right away that my sister was so excited to have me in her life that she did not care that she was no longer the center of my parent’s attention. She acted as if I was her baby. When I was just starting out, as a toddler was the time that I started to develop my first memories, which are not all good. Lets start from the beginning, my first memory that I have of myself would be from when I was almost two years old. In this memory I was attending my papas funeral. I remember that there was the colour red everywhere, all over the walls and even on the seats. It was his favourite colour according to what my parents tell me. From this memory I also remember my parents walking me up to him during his wake and allowing my older sister and I to put a photo of us into his shirt pocket so we would always be with him. After this memory, my next one occurs when I am around the age of two as well. I remember being in my families first home sitting in our kitchen with my mom, on her lap wrapped in my little mermaid blanket, drinking a little bit of tea with her while we watched my older sister catch the bus to go to school. This is still one of my favourite memories because I truly fell that this helped shaped the person I am today. I also

There are certain memories that we have that we can remember like they happened yesterday. Many of those memories that have special meaning to me were of family vacations when I was young growing up with my brothers and sisters. Family memories are important to many of us because they take us back to a time or place that was special. One particular family vacation I remember vividly, and it’s a story I have shared with my kids on many occasions. Over the 40 or more years since that memorable vacation, I still smile and think how lucky I was growing up with a mother and father that did everything to give their kids an unforgettable memory.