My Family Vacation - Original Writing

Standing up on the sand, I felt the rays embrace in my skin. Walking out to the water I recieved cold chills of the wet sand between my toes, As I walking I spotted a little crab burrowing in the wet sand, trying to hide before it turned into a lunch predator. As I brought myself to knee deep in the water there were waves of soft currents that splashed upon my face. It felt refreshing to my skin like a glass of iced water on a hot day. An abundance colored, and variously sized fish swarm around my feet. Their bodies brushed against my leg with inattentiveness to get to one place to another. I could help to wonder what their rush could be. In a blink of eye, Crash! A monster wave hits me and pushes me all the way the shore. Taking a seat back down on the uneven dry sand, I ran my hands through the smooth surface. I laid back and let myself absorb the blistering rays on the sun upon my skin. As my feet soaked down into the moist sand, I realized the most beautiful place on earth would have to be the

Seven years earlier, I migrated to Hawaii when I was twenty-three. I had flown away from my mother and my life in the Philippines. Like young adults and being rebellious, I wanted to live on my own away from my mother 's roof. I left the city life I grew up with in the Philippines in hope of a better life in another country.

It was winter of 2010 during Super Bowl week. My family; Mom, Keith, Hunter, Alyssa, Eric, Lucas and I were driving to Minneapolis, Minnesota to have a family trip. Every year we go out of state to have a family trip. When we were in the car it took us almost five hours to get there and my legs were hurting so I tried to stretch my legs underneath the passenger seat to get rid of the pain in my knees. The ride was boring so all I did was go on my Ipod playing video games or listen to my music. When we got to Minneapolis, the leg pain ride from Oshkosh, Wisconsin was going to be worth it.

My father was the adventurous man in the household, and it was because of this characteristic, that he always knew the best place to go to during the summer of my sister and I’s childhood. My father was the one who taught my sister and I how to be creative and have fun with what you have right in front of you. Summer weekends down at Batsto Lake located in the Pine Barrens were my most precious memories.

t was the first of June. The sun was shining brightly and there was the flavor of joy, happiness, and vacations in the air. I breathed it and truly felt how my body overwhelmed with the freedom and desire to move the mountains in the pursuit of great vacations. I planned my summer holidays during the whole year, and I knew for sure that it had to be a marvelous time spent with friends, ocean, sunshine, fresh fruits, and disco parties. My mother has changed everything that day. She decided that charity was the best thing, which I could do in the summer, and enrolled me to the special program, aimed at attending the elderly homes and assisting senior people there.

As a kid I spent more time on the beach, or by a body of water than I did in my own house. Even though each body of water is different I loved all the same. beach, lakes, rivers, even pools, all had its unique smells, textures, colors, and memories.

Spending quality time with family is one of my favorite childhood memories, whether it was spending time outdoors, playing ping pong, or watching a movie. My most meaningful family memory came from our vacation to Colorado back in 2004; yes, 2004. Although I don’t remember all of the events that transpired, I’m able to recall most of the memorable events that took place. It was a cool, misty morning in the Colorado Rocky Mountains, and I could distinctly hear the unmistakable elk calls that echoed through the mountains. The breeze gently scraped my face as I got into the car to begin the first day of our family vacation in Colorado. I could hear the car tires gently humming on the road during this cool, foggy, Colorado morning. As I looked past the lanky pine trees, glistening drops of dew formed on the tall grass, dancing with the wind. As we moved further down the road, I could see the tip of the sun barely begin to peek over the steep, snowy mountain peaks; however, the sun was soon covered by the misty Colorado clouds. This was it: our family vacation!

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.

We want to escape from our mundane routines, fly somewhere tropical with plenty of booze, and forget about Sharon in the opposite cubicle who never stops snapping her gum. Resort hotel or cruise ship, it doesn 't matter. Just let me enjoy my measly two weeks of vacation while I can. We will then reluctantly return with embarrassing raccoon eyes from falling asleep on the beach with our sunglasses on and get back to work. When Sharon, between gum snaps, peers over the cubicle wall and asks how our vacation was, we 'll merely shrug and say, "Relaxing." And then it 's back to waiting for the next opportunity to return to "Kokomo." While this type of vacation may be rejuvenating and necessary for some people, more American travelers should strive for adventure rather than convenience in their travels. Instead of soaking up the sun, try soaking up the culture. You may find you 'll have a lot more to talk about when you return.

I lived in a dominantly white neighborhood, with dominantly white friends, and surrounded by dominantly white role-models. All the girls wore Abercrombie and were on the cheerleading squad, and all the boys wore Ralph Lauren and played lacrosse or football. We played outside until the street light came on, and were told just like every other child about stranger danger. The only difference in my childhood as opposed to every other child in my neighborhood was my older brother. And he had a very large impact on my life.

We were a normal family of four at first. It was my mom, dad, brother and I. We lived in a little adobe house that they made themselves. I was their first child, the oldest of two. I was born in Mexico and life there seemed simple, but as a child I couldn’t really tell when things weren’t. Things were pretty normal the first four years of my life, I was about to go to school in Mexico and I spent a lot of time with my dad and family. I was really close with my dad, we would go out together a lot, he had a bunch of CD’s in his car and he would play one and we’d sing together, and he would make me breakfast in the mornings while I watched morning cartoons. He was basically my role model in my early days, it was nice too, I really enjoyed it.

“Family is like branches on a tree we may grow in different directions yet our roots remain as one.” When I think of this quote, I think a lot about my brothers. When I was younger I hated having three brothers. It was probably one of the worst things in my life. It was until I got older that I realized that they were there to protect me.

California has always been my home whether it was down south in San Diego where I grew up or up north in Monterey where I attended Santa Catalina’s summer camp with my sisters. My sisters have always been my best friends but Oksana especially. Oksana is only 2 years older than me but when we were young the best compliment someone could give us is by asking us if we were twins. The fact that my mom always dressed us the same could have contributed to the idea that we were twins. My sister was my best friend everywhere she went I was right behind her. I’ll always remember every vacation, adventure and road trip with her. Even those long road trips where we started in San Diego and ended in Monterey…those will be my favorite. I’ll never forget when I first went to Monterey I was about 8 years old. I was so nervous on the plane ride over there I could have puked. My mother rubbed my back and with her loving words calmed me down. My mother reminded me that my sister was going to be by my side no matter what. The moment when I first walked into the camp that will forever be the moment I remember so vividly especially it’s concrete floors. I remember on those hot summer days playing in the pool and the second I got out of the pool I ran as fast as I could back to my room because the concrete floor was burning my feet. When we arrived at the camp, the concrete floor didn’t bother me because I kept staring at all the girls hugging their parent’s goodbye and camp counselors carrying

I was raised in Jellico, Tennessee, a quaint town bordering Kentucky with my parents, and three older sisters. My family was extremely religious up until I was nearly a teenager. My family attended church every week, in addition to leading the church youth group. One would be under the impression that the Hughes family was an exceedingly wholesome family that did little wrong, I was under this impression also. Being a white family in an old-fashioned town in both the south and the bible belt, this was not completely accurate. When I was still a young child, no older than ten, my paternal uncle taught myself and my youngest sister a derogatory noun that referenced to those descending from Africa. My sister and I, being children that had not learned right from wrong, repeated this word. I quickly realized that I was not scolded by my parents or older siblings for using this word, as I was for saying less harmful words such as “crap,” “fool,” “darn,” and “jerk.” Due to this, I was under the impression for multiple years that this word was inoffensive to any person. Soon I learned that this word was suitable for both home and school. Multiple classmates used the word often, and teachers either never noticed, or simply overlooked it. Ten years later, I am completely aware, no thanks to my family, that that word is unacceptable, and should never be repeated by a Caucasian person. Parents are not always aware of what is truly right for their children when it comes to how to treat

It was the first of June. The sun was shining brightly and there was the flavor of joy, happiness, and vacations in the air. I breathed it and truly felt how my body overwhelmed with the freedom and desire to move the mountains in the pursuit of great vacations. I planned my summer holidays during the whole year, and I knew for sure that it had to be a marvelous time spent with friends, ocean, sunshine, fresh fruits, and disco parties. My mother has changed everything that day. She decided that charity was the best thing, which I could do in the summer, and enrolled me to the special program, aimed at attending the elderly homes and assisting senior people there.