Raquel Conceicao Scene One 5-16-17
I remember that fateful day waking up to my mom’s homemade pancakes. She would always get up early on Tuesday mornings and make them for me. They were the best pancakes ever, they were never dry, always light and fluffy. They were mouthwatering, and I couldn’t resist them and I followed the smell to the kitchen. As I entered the kitchen my mom walked up to me and gave me a kiss on my forehead leaving a lipstick stain behind. She always did that and I hated it, I would always wash it off and say “ Really mom. Do you have to do that every day.” Her response was always “ Yes I do.” But now I miss her doing that. You never really appreciate something till it’s gone. In my opinion my mom didn’t need to wear makeup, she was so beautiful already that no makeup could change the way she looked, stunning and always glowing. She smelt like roses, it was her signature scent. She wore black pants and a plain baby blue shirt the color of her eyes. Her eyes always glistened and made her stand out in a crowd. When you
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I told myself my mom is a fighter she will make it out alive. I kept telling myself this till I eventually believed it. I only wish that was what actually happened. It was the longest school day ever and all I wanted to do was go home and be home safe and sound with my mom and dad. My dad picked me up from school that day. I felt really uncomfortable trying to ask if he had heard anything about my mom. He felt really uneasy and I knew something was up. I just thought that mom was hurt and he was trying not to alarm me. Once we got home he told me to “Sit down. I have important news to tell you.” I responded “Why do I have to sit down.” “Just do as I say” He said. I sat down pretty confused. “ Your mother is dead son. I knew how much you loved her and she meant to you.”He said. When I processed what he said my entire world came crashing
As a third and fourth grader, I participated in choir. I enjoyed it then but decided to stop so that I would have more time for homework. In the beginning of seventh grade, when it came time to decide if you want to join choir, Maria Abbulone and I chose to sign up. We thought it would be a fun experience because we enjoy singing, and we had done it in past years. As choir practices began, Maria and I thought that it would be a fun experience for the year, and we might decide to do it in eighth grade. As the choir kicked into full swing, everything was going well.
We flew down the bumpy trails with dust in our face. Maria took Rachel and I four-wheeling with some friends. It was two o’clock in the morning and my mom didn't know where we were. Maria Tormanen is my older sister. Maria has a positive influence on me because she is always pushing me out of my comfort zone. She supports me in what i do and she goes after her dreams, I admire that.
Maria was at the lunch table one day. As she was about to eat her brownie the school bully walked up her name was Jawanna. She was the biggest and the meanest girl in the grade and she loved picking on Maria. She walked up to Maria and said “let me have your brownie” even though Maria wanted her to eat it she gave it to jawanna anyway. So when jawanna walked away Maria’s friend Jessica came and told her “If you don’t stand up for yourself she is not going to stop picking on you” so she told Jessica if I feed her enough dessert she’ll have a heart attack and they giggled. The next day jawanna wanted Marias mechanical pencil so she asked and Maria said no and she took it anyway and gave Maria a cheap wooden pencil at the end of class she gave
I'm sorry it took me so long to answer but Maria was a little under the weather I was waiting to see how it would develop.
Something in my stomach was telling me I would not see him. I did not tell anyone this though just in case I was wrong. But I was right I always have a way of knowing these things. He heard a knock on the door. A feeling of relief washed over everyone except me. The person at the door was the only policeman in town and Frank the town leader. My mom could not keep it together. It is a hard sight to see when your mom is sad. The person you look up to when you are a kid is crying. That can mess a 6 year old kid up. The time that would take place next went from 0 to 100 so fast. We cremated my dad's body and moved. My mom picked texas because it had good schools. We did not have any family though and sometimes I felt as if that was a bad decision. My mother would not tell me how my dad died until I was 16. Not living without a dad can be hard. When it is at the crucial age of 6. You need a good role model. My brother became my dad if he liked it or not. Everything that happened in my life seemed like a blurr. The fact my dad was dead never really hit me. But it hit me so hard and so fast. It was like a brick wall. I started almost failing my classes, sleeping all the time, eating a lot, not exercising, moping all the time. I still suffer from it today. Back then though I wanted to die. But it is so much better. I learned that I held my mom accountable and my dad for
Before I could start going to elementary school I will cry so that I could stay with my sister at school. It might have started as me just trying to be as my sister, but as I became older I realize that getting good grades and paying attention in class only benefited me. She is a great student, and that motivated
My mom spoke very little to each of us and seemed to be gone longer and longer each day until Saturday, which was moving day. That Saturday I had a band concert for relay for life at my local park. As the performance came to an end my best friend and I hop in the backseat of her mom's sweltering car and crank up the radio. We listen to our favorite throwbacks as her mom speeds down the streets rushing to get me home. As we pull in the drive, an unfamiliar vehicle idles in my driveway. Inside my house lays all of my moms belongings neatly piled up by the door waiting to be taken. My mom greets me at the door and introduces me to her boyfriend. He is much taller than me and talks down to me as if I'm a child. I cut the conversation short and sit on the couch with my dog Casey as they continue moving her things. After the last item is hauled away, my mom looks at me through the glass of the front door and says “I'll pick up Casey later.” and vanishes without another
Turns out my mom was not interested to speak with me at all or maybe just not in the car ride home. When we got home I really thought I was dead, but she had just sat down and said hesitantly “Your father is a … Your father is a god-”
My mom kept saying "I have got to go see Fran. I need to see with my brother" My mom ran down stairs to get ready to go, I followed her and just stood there, still paralyzed. She hugged me and said that she loved me. I had never seen my mom so panicked. She went into the bathroom to take a shower and I could still hear her sobbing through the door. I was all by myself, now. I was standing in the middle of the family room as the words "He is dead" pierced my heart like daggers of ice. I was screaming OH, GOD NO, and started to cry uncontrollably. The realization that I would never see my uncle again struck me. After I got myself under control I went and packed my things to leave with my mother. As soon as we were done we were on the next flight to New Jersey.
I had just finished my basketball practice. I was feeling ecstatic because I was making baskets left and right like Kobe Bryant. My coach even told me that he has never seen me play like that before. Then I strutted outside and found my father parked outside the school in his large, brown pick-up truck. I hopped inside and turned my seat heater to high because it was frigid, winter weather outside. My dad made some casual small talk, then he gave me the news. He stated in a low, dull voice, “Hey Jack, grandma past away today.”
I was sleeping over at a friend’s house when their mom told me that someone wanted to talk to me and handed me a phone. It was the cops and they talked about how they got a call from the neighbor that they heard something going on at my house. The police came in to find my mother's dead body and my dad passed out in his room. I was scared when they came to get me to go and talk to my dad. He was talking about how he had gotten home from work and had no clue where my mother was. Then he went up to his room to take a nap cause at that time he was working nights and then he woke up behind
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.
Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was
The form of the pancake my mother made for me every morning was always unpredictable. Sometimes, they would come out perfectly, smooth and round with sprinkles of love blended in. Other times, they would be mushy, uneven shapes that seemed to pile onto the plate. It was just like life, sometimes things would go as planned without any wrinkles, smooth, and other times I would need a steamy iron to get rid of the bunching wrinkles. Overall though, the pancakes symbolized my mother's loyalty to me and served as a bonding tool.
I was awaken by my mothers frantic crying. Immediatly I broke down because I already knew what that meant. My grandpa was no longer living. We rushed to hospice were his cold lifeless body was still laying in the hospital bed. Walking into that room was probably one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. The moment we stepped into the door our family members were all circled around the hospital bed and all that was heard was weeping and crying. My mother was clearly affected the most by his death because she was the definition of a daddy’s girl. When she saw him laying there she instantly brroke down and rushed to his bedside and began talking to him as if he was alive. I remember her repeadtly saying “ I love you Wedaddy”. The look on my mothers face broke my heart. She had always been the light in a dark room. She was always the person that found a way to put a smile on everyones face. I had never seen her like this and it frightened me. Looking at my garndpa lay there lifeless and realizing I would never be able to get one of his famous hugs hurt