My Brother, Killed in Battle: Personal Journal Essay

When asking people what their greatest fear is most will respond with things such as spiders, heights, being alone, etc. Mine, however, isn’t that mutual amongst my peers. The one thing that often keeps me awake in the darkest hours of nightfall is the thought that someone will one day look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m not good enough. All of my life, I have found the incessant need to live up to the expectations of those around me and achieve my mere perception of flawlessness. Even as a small child I tended to always strive to please my elders, doing whatever they wished in hopes of gaining approval and deference. However, even with all of the praise and flattery I have received over the years, the dark recesses of my brain that still hold onto feeling unworthy, reject them. I was in a deep, dark place in my life two years and not too many have taken the time to ask me my story. I assume it’s because most people assume that in retrospective, I’m this perfect figure who always knows exactly what to say, what to do, and precisely when I should do these things, but I’m not. So would you care to listen to the tale of a broken girl, living in a decrepit, judgmental world, seeking a means in which she might find acceptance?

“Mom, have you eaten?” I would ask every morning and evening. The answer was always no. My heart hurt to watch her implosion but there was nothing I could do to help her beyond manage daily minutiae. My brother was always fed, the floors were clean, the laundry didn’t mold.

“Your grandfather didn’t just die Faith, he was murdered. My father put rat poison in his wine that night that our families got together for a dance. I tried so hard to stop him but he locked me up in my room so I couldn’t.” Embry had a shaky voice and a loud cry now. My head swarmed with terrible thoughts that I couldn’t get out of my head. My whole family thought he died of a heart attack. What if my parents really knew the truth and weren’t telling me? Why is Embry going for me and not anybody else? I collapsed to the ground. Lily immediately ran out from the popcorn cart and held me tight. It felt like my world was coming to an end. Embry kept apologizing like it was all her fault.

I was told that “Mommy was sick”, but I knew it was more than that. She was losing her hair, losing weight drastically fast, and losing her food when she attempted to eat. It wasn’t looking good, but she fought to survive. Three years later, we're told my mom is cancer free, although life still wasn’t finished with us yet.

Life is full of challenges, everyday you won't know what kind of problem you will face next. When I was young and still learning about my life in this world, every problem and challenge were stressful to me. I know that feeling of losing hope, but instead of just letting it be, I got back up and faced my problem. It’s a great feeling to have the power to do something that I once thought was impossible. I consider myself a person who lacks determination. I used to just give up on something that was too challenging for me to accomplish or approach. But the worse feeling about giving up is not that you gave up, but It’s that you looked down on yourself and didn’t believe in your own ability. It doesn't matter if other people look down on you, but you should never

It was June 6th, 2016. It was hot, not your typical June heat. I am talking about middle of Sahara Desert, feels like five hundred degrees hot. My dad was grilling some burgers out back, everything was going great. I had worked all day cleaning carpets, worst job ever, just like every other day. I came home and my dad was fixing some dinner. It was at that time that my mom called me. I answered. Then, boom, I knew something was wrong. My mom was completely bawling uncontrollably.

It’s late April 2015, not long after my 65th birthday and I woke early after another night of not sleeping well. Not unusual for the past 46 years. I lay in bed looking at the clock having a hard time reading the extra-large display but as my eyes focused; the clock illuminated the time at 3:30 a.m. I closed my eyes and repeated the names of everyone in the platoon who’d died while in Vietnam: “Tufts, Ramos, Reynolds, Ofstedahl, Swindle, Wellman, Ponce, Mitchell, Anderson, Carey, Morris, Kidwell and Matson.” For most a familiar face appeared when saying the name, but for several of the platoon members, I couldn’t remember what they looked like, only a shadow instead of a face. I can’t forget the fallen, and don’t want to forget! They deserve

I handed her the phone she looked at who it was and she said Madison “Please go to your room or go to the living room,” “Ok” I said. I went to the living room to finish playing my game, Wipeout-2 on my Wii. When my Mom was done on the phone she called me into her room. I paused my game and went to her room. My Mother told me what Nana had said to her. What was wondered in my head, but Nana has Stage 2 lung cancer. “Wow, that is horrible,” I said. When I got the news my heart dropped hundreds of feet out of place.

I walked into the living room to my mother sitting on the couch staring blankly ahead. Her head was fully shaven and she had staples from ear to ear, but still somehow she looked so carefree. Her facial expression gave off a sense that her life was blissful and that perhaps the last month had been but a dream despite the physical changes to her body. Everything seemed in a sense normal that was until my step-dad leaned in and said, "Becky these are your children, Haley and Cody." She didn't remember us, or for better terms she couldn’t remember. Us. Our memories. Our life. Everything was gone. Cancer had taken over.

“Dad how much longer till we finally get to leave?” I would ask my dad with urgency, not understanding at the time that asking ever couple of hours would not make the departure come any faster. Rolling his eyes my dad would answer “This is the fifth time today you asked that question, we are leaving tomorrow morning”. Dancing down the hall I hurry to my room that I share with Daniel. When I approached the door I could heard these terrible retching noises coming from behind the door. I peek inside the door to see Daniel with his face in the waste basket. My heart starts to sink, knowing that if Daniel is too sick to travel then we weren’t going to be able to leave for this trip. I go tell my parents and then trudgingly flop down on the couch knowing I wasn't going to get very good sleep tonight.

I always looked forward to my mom coming home from work. She always walked into the doors with a smile on her face and greeted us with so much affection. Seeing her each day after work gave me so much joy and I looked forward to it. One particular day when I was 5 years old, my mom pulled into the driveway and I got filled with excitement that I literally thought I was going to pee myself. Except when she got out of the car she had this look on her face that I had never seen before. She looked worried, scared, and heartbroken. My excitement quickly floated away. My mom approached my dad and said we need to talk. My mom and my dad went into the bedroom to talk and when they came out of that I room I knew something was wrong. Dad came out looking so angry and sad, as if his world was just turned upside down. My mom approached me and they both took me out onto the front porch of our home. I remember thinking in my head, “what did I do this time?’ That’s when the words came out my mom’s mouth, “Clay came to my work today and he wants to see you and have a relationship with you.” I knew Clay was

Before I was born my mother had Von Willebrand, Lupus and Limes Disease. She wasn 't diagnosed until 18 years ago when I was born. I’d see her struggle everyday while it took over her immune system and her physical movement I saw my mother trying to cope with what was and what would be her. As I got older and I could understand the phrase “mommy isn 't feeling good” I knew something was wrong. I saw my aunts come over and help my mom with her hair and do her makeup, my mother had to wear cancer patient makeup to help make her grey like complexion look somewhat normal, we had to get rid of my dog when I was 5 because my mom couldn 't handle it. When I was 7 my mom had my younger sister, it took a strain on her physical wellbeing and a toll on all of. Her relapse happened a few years later.

She looked at me smiling but didn’t say anything. I stood there confused as to why my dad asked her if she knew who I was, then it hit me when my grandma didn’t respond things might be worse than I thought. We sat in the hospital room for about an hour before seeing a doctor. He walks in and his face said it all, as if he had bad news but was trying to pretend he did not.

I was happy with my life, it was filled with the good, bad and worse. There were times were I sat down and thought of why life could be so harsh. There were times I loved the night, gazed upon the stars hoping that one day I'll be able to see the beauty of our solar system and beyond. Humans begin with good Intentions in their hearts, but they end up falling into a pit called deepest fears. Now some do rise again with even greater intentions set, while others give up and sacrifice their souls and body to an evil spirit. I like to keep rising from that pit and start fresh. My life isn't as easy as you may think, I'm not just a fancy city boy who was raised into a gentleman. I've faced a lot of difficulties in my life, people reading this could

I went home walking. It was just a short 1 kilometer walk. I came home, and saw my mom on the chair. She was sitting there hasn’t moved, ever since my dad died. She’s been traumatized since he died. I gave her a kiss on the cheek. I sat down next to her and did my assignments. After that I helped her to the bed. She couldn’t move without my help. Her mind was focused, on the way my dad died.