My Mother 's Side Of The Family Essay

My maternal aunt gathered us together and we all sat on the couch. She turned to my mother and told us she had cancer. I looked at my aunt and I did not know what to say or how to respond. Three months later, my father received a phone call from his sister telling him that my pregnant cousin, Elizabeth, was diagnosed with leukemia and had to give birth to her premature baby. She and I grew up in the same house in Arizona and what hurt me the most was not being able to be with her during this difficult time. When we went to visit her in Arizona, my dad told us before entering the hospital room that he did not want us to cry in front of her. I was scared to enter. I did not know what to say to her but I knew I had to be strong. We stayed there for the holiday season but we never celebrated the holidays, that was too

My grandmother, who is the mother of my mom, passed away due to heart failure at the age of 87. Since I was 6 or 7 she had been living in our house. The reason for that was, my grandfather, that I was named after passed away a year before I was born, so she was alone, and she was starting to get old. Since she lived with us for so many years, she had been a very important figure in my life. I can honestly say that she was like a 3rd parent for me, and losing her, made me fell horrible and helpless. I witnessed how real death is because of her passing. Combined with puberty, my grief caused me to become depressed for a long time. As I’m looking back it sounds really extreme, but there were some days that I did not even leave the bed thinking that there was no point to our existence. Thanks to some psychological counselling however, I was able to overcome that mental

My dad pulled me out of the chapel and told me it was okay to cry, that the only way to get through something was to accept what had happened, and that if that made me cry, it was okay. Everybody sees crying as a weakness but it is not. Crying is a coping method for me, and many other people that i know. After the ceremony, many people left and went home. As i collected myself, I watched the leaves fall off the trees and to the ground as we followed the hearse that carried my great grandmother inside of it. We got out of the car and walked to the burial, where everybody stood and said their last words about Nannie. I stood in between my dad and my grandma, she reached into her pocket and handed me the cross that i had given to my great grandmother. I set it down in her right hand, remembering her telling me how much she loved her cross and how she felt that it would always keep her safe.

At a young age, around 8, my grandfather died. The majority of the family including myself took our times to mourn and then continued to build our lives. My mother, however, did not, she was broken. At the time, I remember being alone. I remember cooking for myself.

The word migration can have a very different meaning to each individual. In the dictionary it is defined as the movement of people from one country or locality to another. I now see the word with such a deeper meaning no only is it the group of people moving, but in fact how they moved and the struggles they had to go through. Before I sat down with both of my parent and asked them about my “roots” I had no idea how difficult migration from Mexico to the US was for both of my parents families. I never took the time to listen to little details on how exactly they ended up in this country. After I took the time to listen to my elder relatives and parents talk about how they use to

No matter the age, children are always precious human beings in this world and leaving them for just a few minutes can be a life changer, such as something unspeakable that can happen to them at any given time. When having a tight schedule parents don’t tend to think clearly, especially if they’re in a rush. Any parent would want their children to have a safe healthy life, knowing that they are in good hands. Leaving a child from the ages 0-10, by themselves shouldn’t be an option to consider. Children at those ages like to explore and figure out no things, even like to wander off, that isn’t safe for anyone, especially as little as they are.

I grew up in a religious environment with parents who constantly stressed the importance of

Everything was about to change, we wouldn’t order take-out on Sundays, it was a big deal, I was losing my best friend, the only father figure I have ever had so far. I watched him taking all of his stuff out of the apartment, I was getting more and more mad. Wasn’t our beautiful relationship enough to make him stay? I even blame myself I thought I had done something wrong, maybe wearing his clothes and leaving them all messy, I apologize and swear not to do it again, but it didn’t matter the decision was already made.

When I started writing ‘Behind Familial Lines’ I was swept up a writers trance where I felt like I just could not stop. My mind was stopping, starting, changing, and cropping all sorts of ideas and scenarios which was absolutely fantastic as I felt like I was overcoming an emotional barrier in my writing experience; I defeated the voice inside of me which said that “writing is hard”, proving to myself just how flexible the story creation process can be. Alternatively, the pace at which the story was morphing in my imagination was making it difficult to pave a clear direction for the plot. I quickly realised that I had to calm myself down by asking myself what it was that I was trying to achieve by writing this story; upon centring my writing in this understanding, a mental filtering

Kate has cancer and she is rapidly getting weaker and dying. This is the focal point revolving the entire story of this family. Even though the family seems to have a solid attachment to one another, as the story went on, it seemed like the family was worsening in regards to unity. Having a positive attachment amongst each other at all times assists with minimizing issues, and it is much easier to find solutions to any problems or challenges (Cassidy and Shaver, 2008, p.

One morning I was woken up very early and my dad sat on the edge of my bed and was crying. When I asked what was wrong he told me my grandpa Tony had died. When he told me it took about 5 minutes for it to hit me and then the tears started rolling. If I remember correctly I was 9 or 10 when this happened and never really experienced loss before this. A couple hours later my Mom told us we would be going to Los Angeles soon for a funeral. I was born in Los Angeles and haven't gone there in a while so it made me sad to go to the city for a funeral of all things.

I can still remember vividly the day my mother passed away. My mother passed away at a critical point in my life when I was seventeen years old from a short term illness. She was sick for a week and I remember thinking this could be serious, however, my mother declined to go to the hospital because of the distance and financial hardship. I had loss my father when I was three years old, so my mother was a single mother. I have step sisters and brother, but I was not particularly close to them. Losing my mother was a defining moment in my life for it changed my life irrevocably. I was devastated, but I had to become strong, proactive and it spurred me to choose a new career path.

What can one say about their mother? One may talk about her positive and negative

No one can’t meet a family like mine’s. My family is well diversified. Every family member plays an important role in all my family’s lives. In my family, there are four people: my father, my mother, my little brother and me. My father is one who brings money home and is also responsible for organizing and planning family trips. My mother is the one who is in charge for making meals and makes sure everyone eats at the appropriate times. My little brother is the pet of the family. He actually doesn’t have any responsibilities, for he’s the pet. I am the rock of support in my family. I always go beyond my parents’ expectations. I also support my younger cousins and little brother, by being a role model that they can look up to. Another

On September 23, 2004 a healthy baby boy was brought into the world. The doctor sporting a snow-white lab coat with a blue collared shirt exclaims to my mother, “congratulations a beautiful baby boy.” I had a brother now, someone I could spend time with, someone to bond with. I sat next to my father as my mother corralled the newly born child within her arms. “What’s his name?” I enthusiastically asked my father. My dad pronounced, “his name is Joey, and he is your new baby brother.”