My Memories - Original Memories

Chuck Klosterman, in the article “Nostalgia on Repeat,” there is two sides of nostalgia, how it can be good and bad for you. Klosterman, gives examples from both sides. Memories are the past, it is ok to remember them and think about them, maybe even smile from them, just don’t live there. Looking at the past can hinder growth, if a person cannot move on from it and wants to keep reliving that part of their life. The Authors purpose is to shine light on both sides of nostalgia, it is not all bad to remember the past and even flash back to it. However, trying to relive the past is not all good either. It stunts growth and keeps a person from living their life in the now. Chuck Klosterman, writes in a casual tone for those readers that are too

My little sister Anita was born at the time and having a baby sibling around made me feel like a big kid or a parent. I loved holding her and feeding her with a bottle my mom taught me to do while she worked at a night shift (maturation). My fourth grade year is probably the time I went through the most out of my elementary school years. I found out things were getting hectic between my parents. I would see them fight almost every day about money, cheating, and where did they go in their free time. One night when my mom came home from grocery shopping they were verbally fighting and yelling at each other. I heard it from the living room and I went into the kitchen to see them. All of a sudden, I just saw my dad pushed her into the ground and started beating her. She eventually escaped from his grip and ran into my sister’s room. She called the police and they came and arrested him for assault. I couldn’t do much because I just stood there witnessing in shock. They divorced in October while it was the beginning of my fifth grade year. I started to go through depression since the whole thing happened. I grew bitter, unmotivated for school, and even crueler towards my family and animals. I had terrible grades in my report card and I tend to get embarrassed with my teacher yelling at me. I cried over the smallest things that would happen in class. People started giving me sympathy but then got tired of it because it happened often. Around the winter time my mom started to

Growing in a tiny family, I was raised with my brother who is 6 years older than me. My father was always away and my mother was very protective. My mother used to not let me play with kids outside thinking I would get hurt and if sneak out sometimes my brother would follow me and hit me and tell me to go back home. I was never allowed to talk to him. I was always shut down whenever I have a question to ask either him or my mom. When I grew up I started ignoring to ask questions. When I started going to school my teachers used to yell at me and say why I am so quiet and not answering any questions. And in my country hitting students in hands and legs is considered

I would always receive spankings from him, but could never process why those things were happening to me on a consistent basis. From what my sister told me, I was mischievous and hard headed which in our family meant disobedient. My grandfather’s interaction with me was not good at all, so with that being said, sadly I did not have any grief when he died. My mother and older sister were sad and grieving of the situation, but that was because their relationship had been opposite of mines and my sister understood death more than I did. She was aware of what was happening to our grandfather and took it extremely unpleasant. I also consider that those feelings regarding my grandfather’s death are not fully resolved with my mother. I have never heard her speak about him at all towards us or anyone else; that begins to make me think that she is avoiding the discomfort or is trying to forget her grief about him.

Life as a child was really rough,. When I was about 9 years old, my mother would abuse me for completely nothing. eEverything I did was wrong. If I didn’t never eat all my food, I would get slapped,. if I didn’t never do my homework, iI would get slapped. Taking care of my siblings was hard enough and iI was slacking on my school work because I hadve so much to do at home. All I ever did was stay home, watch kids, clean house, and make dinner. I was the oldest, so I didn’t really have a choice but to do all those things because my mother was a druggie. During my teenage years, it got a little better because my mother she had a job,. sShe was going to gonna graduate soon and her siblings wereas doing pretty good in school, Uuntil one day she woke up to people knocking on the door. sShe yelled “Hold on i’m coming.”

Although I had an older brother and sister, I felt alone a great deal of the time I was growing up. I never "acted out" my need for attention. I did not get bad grades in school. On the contrary, I was a quiet child who made the honor roll. I was always given my sisters hand-me-downs which I resented. My grandmother was very strict and often cold. There were never hugs or kisses and not once do I remember an I love you. My father still came to visit, but remarried when I was eight. His new wife was like something out of a horror novel. The mental torture that I endured was a million times worse than what Cinderella went through. My grandmother along with my brother and sister came up with a nickname for me. They called me dog and taunted me every time we passed the pet supplies in the grocery store. At the age of ten my beloved paternal grandmother Memo, the only light in my otherwise dark world, died in her sleep while I was in the next room. I sat and watched as the paramedics tried to revive her with no success. On the car ride back home, my stepmother screamed at my father to "shut me up and stop my crying," as if what I had just been through should not have affected me at all. She left my father a few years later. At fifteen I ran away from my grandmothers house and went to live with my dad. I was receiving survivors support which I never saw once I moved in with my father. Although I did not know it

It felt as if I was surrounded by freezing water while on the inside being burned alive. I let my grades drop I did not care, all that mattered was being an adult and supporting my sister. My teachers did not care, I was invisible. Easy to lose in the crowd.The kids in my grade avoided me because I was “ abnormal” because I did not speak. The people who were supposed to be my guardians did not have enough money to feed both my sister and me. So I did not eat except for what was left over from dinner. I became pale and skinny. I looked like sick all the time. The only time I ate good was every other weekend when I went to my great aunt and uncle's house. This was the very best that life was going to get from me. I believed I was going to end up like my mother a drug user, and have no life. A few years later, my sister and I moved in with my aunt and uncle. They took my sister and me and gave us a great home. We both started to do a lot better. I got healthy and not so sickly looking, I started to talk a lot more, and I got my grades up. Unfortunately, my little sister did not like the fact that she wasn't entitled to anything anymore, and moved back in with our old Guardians.

No matter what I was doing, my parents pushed me to be the best at it. It sometimes took a toll on me, the pressure I was getting never seemed to be aimed in my sister’s direction. My sister is a year younger than I am, but being the baby girl of the family, she seemed to get away with everything. I would be pressured for not getting all A’s and B’s on my report card while she would bring home F’s. My parents would imply that I would not be able to support my family as an adult without successfully completing school.

It was tough trying to handle parents who were always drunk, always violent, always complaining that they could not afford to buy my siblings and me food when every night they would come home with two new bottles. Every night had the same ending. My mom crying for help as my father showed the true demons that hide beneath his aging flesh. I wished many times to die, cried myself to sleep almost every night, and tried my best to keep a face that did not reveal how I truly felt.

She told me I needed to be the man of the house despite the fact, I was the second oldest. My older brother continued to struggle and get in trouble as he wrestled with his own demons. I didn’t have the luxury of doing what I wanted. I dropped many extra-curricular activities so I could be home to help my siblings with homework and dinner. Even to the extent that my going away to college was simply to encourage them to do the same when they finished high school.

I am the oldest child in my family. My sister Kylie was born after me. When she was born, I didn’t like it that much. I liked having a new member in the family, but more work was put on me. It was my first sign of getting older. Along with having more work, I was blamed on for everything. If she made a mess with my toys, it was my mess. Now that she is older she no longer makes messes for me to clean up.

Life was pretty simple back there, my grandparents farmed most of the things we eat from eggs, fruits and vegetables. Occasionally, we get our need for protein from our goats and chickens in the backyard. I am proud to say that life as a kid in the Philippines was the BEST! Because I get to play a lot outside, climb trees and just pretty be an actual KID having fun outdoors! After years of working in Saudi Arabia, my parents finally got a chance to move to the US. Even though life in the Philippines was great and all, I always have that longing to move here and experience that "American life" and more importantly to be with my parents. They worked so hard to bring me and my brother to the US, which is believed by most Filipinos as something that will give us better opportunities and success in life. Years have passed and the day of moving to the US finally came and I remember it as one of the best days of my life. I was so excited hearing the news that we are finally going

I am the oldest child and I have lived in a single parent home for my entire life, and because of this, I was expected to mature at a young age. At times, I was left to take care of my younger brother because my

I was born in Cualcoman Michuacan Mexico, on May 30th, 1998. My parents brought me to the United States when I was 2 years old until I was 4 years old I was living in California but my dad came to Chelan Washington because we needed money and my dad found a job here. For one year to make enough money to make enough money to go for us and bring us to Chelan with him. When I turned 5 I stared going to preschool. I don’t know how it was like before I started going to school but im sure it was fun. My mom was the one that would take of me because she didn't work. My favorite toys were hot wheels. My friends are the same friends I have now today. What I was known at my house was a cry baby because I would cry if I didn't get a new hot wheel car

Alan Jackson has been named one of the best songwriters in county music and most of the songs that he has written during his career are about his personal experiences. He is “one of the greatest singers in country music that has written the best songs in the history of the genre” (The Boot Staff). The song “Remember When” was written “during a difficult period in his marriage, which was when he and his wife got separated and then reconciled” several months later (The Boot Staff). In the song “Remember When” by Alan Jackson, the lyrics, music video, and history reveal the events in his life with his wife so they will remember as they grow old together.