Personal Narrative: How My Mom Changed My Life

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.

My mother was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis at the age of 40, when I was in preschool. With very few memories prior to her diagnosis, living with MS was quite simply a fact of life. A single parent who was singularly dedicated to her three daughters, my mother trudged unwaveringly through all the symptoms, complications, and limitations her disease inflicted on her. For the most part she suffered in silence, her disease progression so slow and gradual that it was nearly imperceptible to us. She was our family’s rock, her faith in God strengthening her resolve to give us as normal a childhood as possible considering the situation. A sudden escalation of her symptoms when I was eleven altered our lives. Over the course of two months she lost

Becoming a mother changed my life in a very profound way. Due to my own upbringing, I was

What is your story? What kind of challenges did you overcome? There are things that happened to me that not many people really know about, I was abused by my older sister when I was a young child. But that didn’t make me a bad person, it made me a better one. I treat people with respect and kindness, I help my family with the things they need, and I take care of my brother. I still always make time for myself, to draw, to write, for anything really. But I wouldn’t be the same person I am today if these things didn’t happen.

My Mom, Dad, and younger brother survived. If it's not medicine, my family would not have lived.

I believe, without my mother's independence and the way she raised me, I would not be applying to Queens today. I have had my share of ups although I've also had plenty of downs. I have two older sisters and a younger brother. My oldest sister chose a different path when she had the opportunity to choose a more successful path. She moved out at the age of 16 to flew across the country to live off of my grandpa's income. She dropped out of college, barely a semester in, with student loan debt. She could have been a multi-sport collegiate athlete on scholarship. I look at her and see what could happen if I don't make the right choices and take advantage of my opportunities. My second oldest sister made most of the right choices, and I look at her and see how successful I could become.

This all started when my mom started telling me about how hard her life was and that I had it easy. Well I didn’t exactly agree with that statement so I said something. I stated that she wouldn’t last a single day in my shoes so that is where she got mad and went to her bedroom.

I began my life conditioned to understand the meaning of various psychological disorders. My mom, whom is a therapist, turned herself over the AA recovery program when she was 22 years old – and naturally expressed her knowledge with me. My familiarity with conditions and their dysfunctions led to a catastrophic personal exhalation and the unmanageability of my life. A number of traumatic experiences toppled with insecurity and arrogance made me weak in this challenging world.

In this paper I am going to tell you about my mom's life, her name is Tracy and she was born in Dubuque, Iowa, at Xavier Hospital on December 27, 1972 . I am going to tell you about her family, her early influences, her education and finally her interests.

The second degree burns all over my mother's left arm and torso would debilitate her for months to come. As a young fifteen-year-old used to having basically everything done for her, I suddenly faced more work and responsibility than I ever needed to consider beforehand.

I want to resolve this. I want Jaren to spend time with you. I want you to spend time with Jaren. I want more than anything to not feel I as though we have to appease each

Life growing up for me was actually hard. My mom was a single parent working two jobs to provide for me. I went to my dads on the weekends, but he never helped out much. He has always been late on child support, and now he is six months behind. Life now is better though. Back in 2011 my mom met this guy on the internet not thinking she would fall in love. The relaionship progressed, and december of 2012 he invited us to move in. Now currently my step dad, he works offshore, so I only see him pretty much six months out of the year. My mom is currently unemployed, and I feel this was an award for us. My step dad does everything he can for my mom and I, but there is some days I miss the little things my mom and I admired when we had a budget,

Quickly picking up my limp mom. they laid her down on it and put the stretcher in the ambulance my dad helped me and my sister up into the ambulance then he got in. The paramedics shut the doors then got on the ambulance. As they drove us to the hospital all i could think about was a life without my mom and how terrible it would be. I loved my dad so much but things would be a lot different without my mom. The thought of who would do my hair, who would tuck me in, who would make sure that my outfit looked ok, who would pick out the best looking shoes for me, and who would give me her pretty lipstick. I started to cry without showing it. When we got to the hospital they grabbed my mom on the stretcher and ran her into the hospital. My dad got

I watched as the letters looped and formed my mother’s name on the line; beautiful and clear, the mess of lines were a paradox in and of themselves. I grew up as the oldest of five in a single parent household; my mom was my biggest inspiration even though, until I was six and started devouring books, I didn’t even know what the word meant. When I first started learning cursive in elementary, I aspired to be able to have a signature as unique as hers. I’d doodle my name all over my notebooks; my friends and I would practice signing each other’s hands and books for the day when we’d all inevitably find fame. Eventually, our names had a constant presence on each other’s belongings. When I got older and my mom went from a stay-at-home mom to someone who worked odd shifts and exhausting hours, her signature on our papers suddenly became rushed and lost

The first year was the worst. My mother was completely devastated; she never left bed. I would kiss her goodbye for school in the morning and come back to find her in the same position, she didn’t move not even for food. My father would pay my mother $500 a week every Monday when he would pick up my brother for school. The money was used to pay the mortgage, the car, the heat, and food. The $2,000 a month was not enough to even cover the mortgage alone. There were days I would come home and the lights would be off, the house cold, the fridge empty. Soon enough the house would be foreclose on, the cars reposed. There were days I would come home to find my mother crying on the couch, trying to figure out how she let this happen. I would sit there with her helpless, all I could do was wipe her tears, hold her and reassure her everything would be all right; it will get better.