My Mother And Dad : A Short Story

My story isn't quite special really, although I have lived under some unique circumstances. My mother was a single parent raising my little sister and I until she married my Stepdad in 2007. I was five at the time and had no father figure until then. From that time on he became my dad. Our new family moved twice before living in a small city where we stayed for 6 years. This is where I made close friends, achieved academic excellence, went to church regularly, life was great or so I thought. What seemed to be our perfect life was turned upside down as hard times fell upon us. I was now the oldest of five younger siblings, my mom wasn't healthy, and my dad had to struggle to keep things going.

Hello reader, I’m about to tell you a story of some of my life. I am not normally one to volunteer details about myself, which I’ll remain somewhat reserved or completely leave some events out of this autobiography. Nonetheless, I believe I can still make my story interesting for the reader. I was born 1979, in Tampa, Florida; which, is also the same day my biological father decided to leave my mother and I. My mother isn’t a native Floridian, but had moved there with her family when she was still an infant, and had spent most of her life growing up in Florida. Needless to say, my father leaving was not an exciting time for my mother and I. Although she was employed Jimmy Cater was president and had taken the nation into

My birth took place in Mar del Plata, Argentina, into a family of six including myself. Years passed, my mother gave birth to a girl and was pregnant soon after to another. My father, a strong laboring mechanic decided that it was time he moved his three boys and soon to be three girls from the home he literally built with his bare hands alone, to another country with grander opportunities, not for himself, but for his six children. He decided that with the money that cost him years of tireless work and stress he could only afford passage for himself. He set off for the United States and for months he worked day in and day out, any job he could get his hands on. He paid for our flight and had a modest, dainty apartment awaiting our arrival.

April 13, 2010 was the day that my life had completely changed. My dad came home from a long day at work and had some excited news, at least that’s what he said. I remember when my dad walked into the house and told my mom the news first, I will never forget the look on her face. My siblings and I knew the news could not possibly be good by my mom 's expression. My dad told my brothers and I that we are moving to California because he had received a promotion. We had lived in Georgia for seven years of my life. I was so familiar with the land and every Sunday my family and I would go to the mall. We would eat ice cream, go shopping and later watch a movie. We lived in a gated community and they were like my second family. I was very distraught when my father had told me the “good” news. I had to leave my friends, family, and all of my memories in Georgia.

I share this story simply because it is my background that has given me the life I live today. My parents’ lack in further education has motivated me to be the first in my family. Seeing my family struggle has pushed me to succeed in every task I attempt and to never back down when life throws me a curveball. Watching my father age has inspired me to reach for every dream I feel is impossible and to live to my absolute fullest potential. My education, in turn, has become the main priority in my life. Realizing that after years of struggle, my family is finally happy and blessed with the gift of life, has shown me that life was not meant to be

I was born in Boston, but raised in Boston and New York. Growing up I was an only child, and my mother had family in all over Queens, New York. My mother is originally from Haiti. When she came to America, she didn’t have much family support. She stayed at my grandparents’ house in Brockton. She was looked down upon by my grandfather for having a child before being married. Instead, she would take a trip to New York every weekend, where her sister lived, to avoid the negativity. Growing

Way before I ever existed, my parents met in Etzatlan Jalisco, Mexico in the month of October. A small town located near the capital of Mexico, Guadalajara. They dated for about two years before my parents decided to come to the United States. When they moved to the United States, they lived in Mount Airy, North Carolina with my current Godparents for about a month. After a month passed by my parents had moved to Virginia, where they stayed living in their own trailer throughout the pregnancy stages my mother was experiencing. Meanwhile, each day both my mother and father worked outside at a field harvesting peaches and tomatoes.

I was born and raised in Jerez de Garcia Salinas, Zacatecas Mexico in 1996. I acknowledged the fact that both my parents had been able to attend college and worked as professionals because not many of my childhood friends were able to say the same about their parents. My mother had studied biology to become the well-known Bio-pharmaceutical chemist she still is, and my father had studied medicine for a long period of time to become a medical doctor. I felt truly blessed for both my parents, and I felt like my family had come a long way considering how my maternal grandmother was nearly seventy years old and had never learned how to read, write, or even count numbers to ten. However, I learned that life tends to happen and it does so in curious ways. My father currently works at a print-screen factory thanks my uncle, one of his nine siblings. My father has been in the US for as long as my younger brother, Erik, has lived for which is now 12 years. Our parents are still married, yet no longer together.

It was February 12, 2006 when our feet touched the “land of the free”. Like many others living in a third world country my parents wanted a better life for their family and through a D.V lottery they finally had the chance to pursue what many would describe as the “American dream”. We stayed with my aunt and uncle. I was excited that we were starting a new life in a different country but little did I know that these several months would be the most challenging and difficult time for my entire family. my mother finally gets a job as a housekeeper, I was too young to understand then but looking back now I realize how demoralizing that would’ve felt for her considering she had such a respectable job back home. My father was always the type of person to keep his

Interviewer: “To begin, how did you manage to survive your childhood? Everything about your life growing up seemed so chaotic and difficult, yet you not only survived it, but went on to prosper in New York, despite it being a radically different environment than the one you grew up in.”

My mother’s favorite quote was “work hard for what you want because it will not come to you without a fight.” Growing up in the city of Columbus was pretty easy. The town was pretty decent. I was born to the parents of Termica J. Webber and Paul V. Roland on July 14, 1998. On September 18, 2002 my mother gave birth to my younger sister, Annie Rogina Deanes who is now 13 years old and lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her father. I am the oldest child of my mother and the youngest child of my father. When I turned 6 I instantly moved to a small town of Pheba, MS with my grandmother, Thelma Webber, where times were hard. No one hardly lived in the small town and I was the only child living with my grandmother besides my aunt

My parents tried to provide us with everything, but with such little income it was difficult to have basic necessities such as food and shelter. We would set up a tent or sleep in our car most nights and then we would move to the next farm that had crops ready to harvest. My parents worked as migrant farmers and we moved to wherever the crops were ready. My parents worked long hours under the hot California sun and they never once complained. Daniel and I spent the long days fantasizing about a future where we were no longer struggling and we imagined the day when we could finally call a place home. We were exhausted of always moving around, but until my parents found a steady job we had to move around for

After my mother and I have an argument she usually smiles at me and says, it’s because we’re so much alike that we argue. She reminds me that our lack of communicating often stirs more trouble than why we were arguing. I used to get upset that my mom didn’t set time aside for our family to spend time together or make us eat together at the dinner table. I was upset because I was comparing our family to my friends’ families. I valued those things and assumed my mom didn’t, but I was wrong. My mom had so much on her mind everyday it was breaking her on the inside. Not only had I wanted my mom to be like my friend’s moms, now I had wanted my mom to be different because she was depressed. Bonhoeffer mentions that we desire images of others that we want, but aren’t the true image they bear as Christ’s (pg37-38). At first I was puzzled. How is a good image of mine, not Christ’s image for her? I learned that His image is neither right nor wrong, but simply uniquely divine. My mom could have done those things, but her whole life would have had to be different, and I would never want to change who my mom is.

We traveled from Staten Island, NY to Manhattan, NY via the ferry, train and bus and we finally reach our destination. This was five years ago, now I will be a college graduate in May 2010, my immediate brother is in his second year of college pursuing Engineering, and my baby brother will also be a graduate, from high school attending the University of Buffalo to pursue Law.

When I was young my mother and my father both had very different opinions on how you should raise a child. And since my father was the one paying the bills and bringing home the paychecks for a few years, I didn’t really get to see him much because he worked all day. So my mother was the one who raised me for the most part. At the time she would spoil me like crazy. If I asked for something the answer would always be yes, and if I didn’t get my way I would start having a fit until she finally caved in. You could’ve called me a crybaby, go ahead I would’ve said the same thing. Because I was. My father’s best friend who had two twins both the same age as me invited me, my father and my mother over to there place for an easter egg hunt easter morning. During the easter egg hunt, me and my friend both turned a corner at the same time. He saw an egg and as he was going to grab it, I saw it and tried to get it also. He got there before me and I started to have a fit right there and then. I could remember my mother rushing up to see what’s wrong. After I told her what had happened she got me to stop crying and gave me extra candy. My dad knew that by her raising me like this I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere in life without someone being there whenever something went wrong, so he told her to take the candy back and to tell me to get over it and that not everything in life will be fair. She took that the wrong way and got mad at my dad for “not being a good parent” because didn’t