My Experience In My Life

In life, many times we face the most difficult obstacles. Never did I imagine that I would face a time in my life as challenging as the Summer of 2009. When I was in 4th grade, I found out my family and I would be moving to Broken Arrow. At first, I was so excited to go to our “brand new” house. It was then that I realized moving to a new city meant making all new friends, and basically starting over. I didn’t know what would happen at that point, but here I am 8 years later and I couldn’t be happier with my life. Moving to Broken Arrow was frightening at first, but in the long run gave me many new and exciting opportunities such as making new friends, becoming involved in my church, and making incredible memories in my school’s marching band.

Chicago, Illinois is where a baby boy was born in 2001 at a mischievous and uncomfortable place. His parents named Mayra and Natividad arrived as undocumented people. When the young baby boy was born, his parents said this to each other, “This young man right here will become one of the greatest person God has sent us. He will help us to achieve many wonders and gifts for us.” That inspiration gave life to the little one and was a blessing to him to live life. Once he grew enough to enter Kindergarten, this triggered a conflict between reading and talking. It was a struggle during the times that his parents put him in reading tutorials and speech. After many practices, he then later began talking English and reading it fluently. What he wanted, was a better life for his parents; a life that he could see his parents smile everyday. A life where there isn’t any conflict between them; a life with at least some peace. That short kid was me; now I’m have enough experience to express my feelings to everybody, but to begin with, when I began growing in age I started to see life as a cruel world especially when it came towards my parents lives and experiences.

From my earliest memory, my life in the Philippians was surrounded with joy. I was born

Throughout my life, I’ve had the opportunity to call several places my home. Coming from a military family, moving is not an uncommon occurrence, though I have been fortunate enough to only have lived in three states, Virginia, Arizona, and Texas. Each different place has had a unique effect on who I have become today and my goals.

Out of all of my adventurous youthful years one event sticks out to me even to this day. Even though now it seems not particularly interesting or more important than anything else it still somehow persists within my memory. The event of which I am referring to happened around when I was 7, or maybe I was 6. My parents and I were going on a trip down to bennett springs state park, near Lebanon Missouri, to camp for a weekend.

When my brother was 7 years old he was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. This was a scary time in my life, not just because my little brother had acquired an incurable disease but because he was on the verge of death when the doctors finally prescribed him. When my brother was first brought to the hospital I feared for the worst. I remember being yanked out of soccer practice and rushed to the hospital as my sister cried at the wheel of our car. The only thing we knew for sure was that my brother was so sickly and so close to death that if he had come in to the hospital a moment later all our lives might have taken a turn for the worst. When we were finally educated on the circumstances we would have to endure in the coming years, my family and I quickly rose to the occasion and set out to learn how to conquer the foreign invader. My mother and I spent countless hours in the emergency room, working with specialists and trying to master the caretaking of a diabetic. Because my dad was busy at work and my sister busy at college, my mom had a lot on her plate and I was more than willing to do whatever I could to help her out. This involved a lot of babysitting while my mother researched and more cooking than I had ever experienced in my life. Thankfully some good did come from this experience. My brother and I spent so much time together that year that we became inseparable, only able to spend short amounts of time away from each other. And to top it off, possibly the

During my childhood I was mainly raised by my mom, dad, and my two half brothers ,Matt and Taylor Lambert, who I basically just considered my brothers. I always thought of it this way, because they never really went to there dads house. So us three kids were mainly raised our whole life by the same parents, but somehow we all ended up with completely different personalities. Taylor has always been really book smart and a social butterfly, Matt has always been the jokester and the one who gets in trouble the most, and I’ve been the more quiet one who observers what’s going on. How we all ended up so different is question I wonder about all the time. My mom was never really into to punishments, and neither was my dad. My dad was more into life lessons talks that would go on for hours. If one of us ever got into trouble,which was mainly Matt, my dad would sit all of us down for a life lesson talk. My mom would usually have to intervene and tell my dad that the kids get the point. Otherwise my dad would talk the whole entire day. I believe the reason why Matt was the one who got in trouble the most was because everything he did was loud, and he wasn’t very sneaky. One time he got some fire crackers from a friend and left them in his pocket. So when his pants went through the wash my mom was not to happy. Also, Matt would always make fun of Taylor in the most obnoxious way just so Taylor would fight him. Why he did that I don’t know, because Taylor has always been the stronger

Since I worked and went to school, it took me six years to get through four years worth of college. I earned by BA in Literature and Writing from CSUSM in 2005. More than seven years had passed since the evening of my conversation with Rebecca. I had long since lost contact with her, and my life veered way off course from seven and a half years earlier.

Imagine being in a family that always had so much going on, so many people running around going places, doing things, coming over, basically just always busy. Being the youngest it was never easy, always feeling like no one had time for me, not understand that I am not the only kid that has to be taken care of.

For most of my life I had not put much effort into my looks or health. I prided myself with my intelligence but was unhappy with how my body looked. I thought it was silly to be so concerned with my mental strength but not my physical. Until my sophomore year I was overweight and did not have much of a social life.

The day was quiet, like it usually was. A melancholy day where all colors just seem to blind itself. To see space the way it was it; it was surreal. Time dilation, the world walked just a bit slower than me. Well, I was always like. Hmm you have that feeling like you are sitting in the waiting room? Yeah it like that, but with my whole life. To be honest, it seem to be a blur, rushing blushing, flashing in my mind; one idea bounces to the next and goes to another. That would be all fine and dandy if my mind didn’t wander off into a place of disappearing. I don’t fear death, I fear myself. Well before I get into I might as well tell you how I got into this interesting state. I was born in Virginia, But I moved to South Dakota when I was relatively very young. I have no brothers, no sisters neither. I learned early on that my life was fated to be alone from the very beginning. I was apart of a twin but my identical twin sister, was announced stillborn few minutes after I was born. I still have thoughts up to this day of what could she be, eh I know that unhealthy, but hey its natural,. But soon after that my mom a beautiful, enchanting women with crystal blue eyes, and golden blonde hair ran away with another man, she was young and had her whole life ahead of her, about the age of 26, and had no ring chain to hold her down. I don’t blame her the man she ran off with was more handsome, richer, and actually loved her. My father on the other hand was a repulsive drunk that, would

My eyes were filled with tears and my hands sweaty. I was nervous about how mommy would look after coming home from the hospital. I was 10, it was daytime outside, but inside and all around me it was nighttime, darkness was coming and it filled me with terror. My mother worked as a nurse in the local hospital, I could smell her uniform even today.

Early morning glaze slips through the drapes, reflecting off the crystal collection that's rooted on my windowsill. The specular reflection of light urges me to open my eyes, drawn to the washed out rainbows projecting onto the pristine white walls. I sit up. With feet lightly resting on the carpeted floor I begin to feel energy rolling through my veins, waking up my toes, my calves, into my stomach, up through my chest, reaching the span of my arms and deep into my mind. Taking in the first breath of day through a long winded stretch, I begin making my way towards the other side of the room. I stare blankly into what seems like the ocean, deep and belonging to more than one place. The mirror is telling me that my eyes are like bark, dark, earthy and brown. My hair curls like the spiraling spine of the native koru and my winter woolies melt into the lovable curves that are my body. Aging gracefully, some would say, but that isn’t what I would say. I would say I am a misplaced key, one that is desperately desirable yet so easily discarded.

As time passed, it seemed to fly faster and faster. Soon, it was the summer between my sophomore and junior years and I had an abundance of plans for how to spend my summer. One event stood out compared to all of the others. It would greatly influence my life and shape my thoughts to the way they are today. Reminiscing about the events of my past, my journey to the glamorous mountains of Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico to hike for a week is indisputably the greatest memory of my life so far.

"Take a moment to think of just flexibility, love, and trust," has been my mantra for this whole senior year. It’s something I try to think about when I decide anything important in my life. Rather it’s setting goals for myself, procuring different interests, or choosing in right college, thinking about flexibility, love, and trust is how I try to keep my mind straight for the next couple of years.