Personal Narrative: How My Mom Changed My Life

My mom and I were at the register in the grocery store after finishing our shopping, our cart was full of food. We get to the register, the cashier checks our things, and tells my mom the total price. My mom handed her our food stamps. The cashier looks up at my mom telling her that there wasn't enough money on the card to buy all of the food. With my mom's head hanging low, I came to the realization that we were in a tight spot. But, at first I didn't see the bank account dropping into negatives, I didn't see my mom running around looking for whatever coupon she could find, I didn't see my dad crack because we were so behind on rent, I didn’t see my parents calling up my grandparents for some extra cash in order to catch up. But, the older I got the clearer my vision became, so they weren't able to hide it from

Tiny critters disappeared into the ground and birds flew to warmer climates due to the endless of snow that Pennsylvania was receiving. The five-leveled mansion west of Pittsburg was the only thing that withstood this weather. A few feet away from the red-bricked home was a pile of logs lying on a small wooden stable. Icicles were formed and they dangled from the roof of the two buildings. Three sides of the property were protected by acres of leafless white oak trees. Instead of trees in front of the house, it was a lake named KeyStone. The cold weather had frozen the body of water that stretched out on for miles and around it had a small road that leads to the city of Spearen.

As a young child, my mother always taught me to help those in need. Not in hopes of anything in return but because you never know what people may be going through. I have always given a helping hand wherever I could. Whether it be helping my mother around the house, being the teachers helper for the week, or simply helping a friend in need. In my younger days, I wanted to be a lawyer. My goal was to help as many people I could stay out of trouble. Being that my mother was a nurse, I changed my career goals to follow in her footsteps. This way I could help the sick and ensure that they would be healthy and happy. I attended my first year of college at the College of Charleston and they did not have a nursing program. Still determined to help

I remember a time, when I felt like the world was against me and the only thing keeping me sane was my mom. She has been their for me during all the ups and downs of my problems. I have felt elevation when she helped me get through the loss of my uncle.  For example, she would let me cry on her shoulder and asked if I needed anything. There would be days when I came home from school crying, from my teacher yelling at me and sending me to the principal office. She would comfort and tell me that everyday is a new day and the teacher was just doing her job. When I was little, I was always afraid to go over to my grandparents house and sleep over. She gave me the strength to face my fear and now I'm not afraid anymore. She has always pushed me

My mom was chosen to be shadowed because she has always worked two jobs. When we moved, she decided to only have one job and go to school, which i am really glad of because she was very stressed. She seems to be a lot happier now that she only has to worry about one job. It would be nice to see how she works now that she is less tired from working 2 jobs and now only works that one. Another reason is because we don't really get to spend time together with her working and school.

Growing up, my family never really had much. Nearly all our furniture was picked up from the streets and a majority of my brother and I’s clothes were hand-me-downs. To make matters worse, my dad was addicted to gambling and would argue with my mom every night in regards to this issue. After a few years, this led to my family being in major debt and my mom decided it was time for a divorce. My mom raised me and my brother on her own while also working to pay off all the debt. I never realized how hard working my mom was until many years later. She would take me and my brother to school, work a full 8 hour shift at work, sometimes even longer, and go to school to get her associates degree. Afterwards, she would come home and cook dinner for

My mother gave birth to me as a 16-year-old high school student, so in the beginning, my life was very inconsistent. The first 7 years of my life I don’t recall my mother being around that often, it was my grandmother who initially raised me and impacted my adolescent years. My mother after finishing high school and acquiring her nursing degree, was always working to ensure we had food on our plates and a roof over our head. Eventually my mother acquired enough wealth to move us to California for a better life and more opportunities than in Las Vegas. As time passed I had to learn how to manage the new life that was thrust upon me, and I no longer had my grandmother who kept me company when my mother was working. As a child of a teenage mother,

My mom used to beat me every single day. And I do not feel bad about saying this, it's in my memory and yet something tells me not to believe it. She not only beat me but my sister Angelica as well. I remember her beatings on myself more. If I think back to it I can almost feel how fearful I felt and how much I wanted her to stop. Anything or everything would make her go off on us. We were walking on eggshells. No matter how many times I tried my best to avoid making her mad or cause her to verbally abuse us, nothing worked. I grew up thinking I was a bad kid. I grew up thinking her actions and behavior were my fault. I found ways to keep her happy and she was always miserable. We never seen her genuinely happy for us, not a single day. Her

At the age of sixteen I became a mother. Not literally but I had to take responsibility for my six year old brother as if he was my own son. Our own mother was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Bipolar Disorder . We did not have a mother , she refused to seek help and the place we called our home became unbearable. She was careless , distant, she was would keep us up with her yelling and made up fights. She would threaten us and leave for as up to a week at once . I was the head of the household. I cooked , cleaned , helped my brother with homework, took him to practice and made sure my mother’s image was not ruined in his innocent mind like she had ruined it in mine . I became subject to her emotional verbal and once physical abuse. She targeted me more than anyone once she noticed that her son favored me more than her. All this while being in my first

When I was 7 years old, I remember my mom used to drive a school van, On the morning she would pick up regular school students, but in the afternoons she would pick up soccer students and take them to their practice, I always wanted to spend time with my mom, so I decided to go with her all the afternoons on her route. I would sit on chair and watch everyone playing, one day my I asked my mom if I could join the girls’ soccer team, she always support me and she gave me her approval. In the next week she bought me all the soccer gear and uniform, I started my training and I was very excited until I realized I was one of the smallest girl on the team, and the during the game the other girls acted tough while paying. I didn’t gave up; I liked

I had arrived to the big world on a morning of the 28th of June in 1996, at 7:48 am at Cambridge Medical Center. The day my mother had bright me home, I immediately started to observe the world around me; just as would any other newborn baby, and I also watched my new family, mainly my mother. As I watched her through out my life growing up, I’ve learned that she did a lot for others. More then she did for herself, which I always wondered why. But, when I had gotten to middle school, I soon understood why she did so many things for others. She worked at a company called Public Health Solutions, which involves helping the mentally ill become independent for themselves; she had worked at that same company for 20 years. Every day she came home

Today is March 24, 1950, and my mother is taking my brother and I to the doctor’s office. I don’t know why we are going again; we went just three days ago, on my thirteenth birthday. The doctor did a lot that day, too. He put this huge mask on my head while I ran in place, watched how I breathed, took xrays of my brain, and even watched how I slept. Also, he and my mother talked for awhile. I can’t remember exactly what they were talking about, but I remember some words. “...in perfect health for the procedure…”, “...strongly suggested…”, “...will be allowed to watch…” I don’t know what the procedure is, or what my mother is allowed to watch. In fact, I’m not really sure if it is my mother who is allowed to watch. I’m pretty sure they were

When I was fifteen years old, my father died after a year and a half of battling lung cancer, leaving the family with less disposable income due to a lack of child support. My mom worked hard to put food on the table as a beautician, while being married to a man who made her miserable just so we could have a roof over our heads. To say that I was emotionally maladjusted would be a gross understatement. In order to give my family a fresh start, my mom decided that a move was in order, so she left husband number three, packed our bags and our furniture and drove my sister and me to Tennessee to live near my maternal grandparents. Our new home town, with a population of just three thousand, and a church on every corner was as small town

Growing up I watched my mom struggle with bills. She works a full-time job and a part-time job just to be able to set food on the table for myself and herself. I had to grow up or in other words I had to become mature and think differently. I knew my mother was trying to make time for me, but it was nearly impossible. I had a lot going on as a child. From swimming to dancing I always used to tell my mother

My family and I depended on my father for a paycheck every month to pay for bills and groceries, but one month the paycheck never came. My father had lost his job from Caterpillar in Decatur, Illinois. When it happened, I was in third grade, and I had no worries, didn’t care about how I looked, and made sure that I was doing well in school. My younger brothers were in kindergarten and preschool at the time, were six and three years old, and only cared about the toys they wanted from the store. My mother was a stay at home mother, and tended to the house and all of our needs at home when it occurred. My father had lost his job, my family lost the paycheck that paid for everything.