I am a victim. A victim of a horrible disease that is eating me inside and out. It has been running through my mind destroying any signs of life. Anything that made me who I once was. Memories that have been keeping me up for so long. It was taking over, combing with the blood that has been running through my veins. This disease is creeping towards my heart, burning it to ashes. Ashes that I know would never be one again. It all started on this one horrible day, January 2, the day this disease began. “Paige and Nesa we have to go,” my mother yelled from across the street. “Bye grandma and grandpa,” we screamed in unison. “Stay safe we love you,” my grandma called back. We got into the car and was not surprised to hear our parents discussing scientific explanations. We never really understood why they enjoyed science so much. As soon as we got in, my dad began to drive away. I looked back and waved goodbye to my grandparents. They were always smiling and happy. I was going to miss them. We only came during special occasions. Although I was happy to go back to the city, being there in the middle of nowhere was starting to get very boring. All you see are trees but I guessed they like the quite peacefulness of being alone without a house in sight. “Dad I’m hungry,” whined Nesa after thirty minutes of just starring out at trees. “Can we stop to eat since we have five hours till we get home.” “Yes, because there are so many places to stop at.” We all laughed at my fathers
They had been driving for 10 hours and were dieing to get out of the cramped minivan. The only stops that had been made was for quick bathroom breaks and to get gas. Other than that it was nonstop driving.
The summer rain of San Luis Potosí, México, made it almost impossible to go outside and enjoy the city without getting drenched, so Abuelito, Silence, and I together in one room, enjoying our second return to our hometown. He sat on his chair and I lay on the bed, calmly looking through the family albums. Bookshelves filled with books from my mother’s and uncles’ university courses and my Abuelita’s books from her teaching years covered one wall. It remained the same ever since we moved to the United States. The same TV. The same bed sheets. The only things that changed was my grandpa’s ability to walk and me. I gained height and weight and well, he has gotten older and weaker. I have lived my whole life with him by my side but do I really
I made my way to my aunt’s house. Her home smelled of fresh cut pine, and she offered me a cup of coffee with a cinnamon stick in it. I accepted, and we went to the kitchen table and discussed our week. As she talked, I looked out her kitchen table. A small oak grew in the front yard. Snow capped the birdfeeder beside her bird bath.
For a moment, I was transported back to my grandmother’s house in Small Town, Tennessee. I could smell the fresh Earth and hear all of the different livestock, fowl and outside dogs that guarded the animals, just as they did the house, from any predators. I recalled being a little girl dancing like no one watched, dreaming up inventions,
The story Mrs. Hribar shared was about the meaning of goodbye to her and her family. Mrs. Hribar’s grandparents lived in Florida and she only got to see them at most once a year. Whenever she would leave, she would get really upset, and her grandma would say “we’re not saying, goodbye we’re just saying see you later”. Her father was strict when she was growing up and often wasn’t home because he worked a lot. She treasured the tender moments with, because they were rare. Especially the time they cuddled on the couch and watch the original Star Trek, and when he took the family to see the first Star Wars movie. Her father softened up as he got older, especially when he started to have health issues. He was a survivor of prostate cancer and had endured many heart surgeries. One day he was having chest pains so he went to the hospital to have it checked and had an aneurysm in his heart causing him to die the next day. At first she was angry that she didn’t get to say goodbye, but at his funeral her mother told her to say her goodbyes to her father, and then she really understood the phrase her grandmother always used to say to her. She was
Winglets increase the life of engines because they reduce the engine thrust required to push the aircraft through the air. The engines of aircraft with winglets will use between 2% to 6% less fuel. The table below shows the fuel savings of a blended winglet on different aircraft. The fuel savings also result in the aircraft having a larger range. Different aircraft and routes experience different savings.
The earliest experience society has with authority and leadership is within their own family. Often times the running of households is compared to the running of one’s country in the sense of each individual’s self reliance, hard work, and personal responsibility. The driving force behind political differences and beliefs can be dictated back to the way one was brought up. The question of how people can analyze the same issue and draw polar opposite conclusions is often the basis for all theories and methods researchers have proposed. The unbridgeable divide between the Republican and Democratic parties in the recent presidential election support the hypothesis of hidden assumptions and frames that dictate how every individual thinks about politics, all being shaped by personal values. The metaphor of America being one big family is drawn into the fact that many consider families to be governing bodies and governing bodies to play the role of parents within a household, thus drawing the conclusion that governing institutions are families in the greater scheme of things. Researchers have discovered two main family dynamic
Hence, since the dawn of my perceptual abilities, I have encountered father’s disappearance with reasonable comfort, spent most of my childhood living with grandparents and soon adapted quickly with the elders’ style of living, that is, moving calmly and slowly. At the time, my house located near a
I caught the first flight to Texas and quickly adapted to the atmosphere surrounding my new home. The country town is full of love and joy, something I haven’t experienced in way too long. The houses are scrunched together like sardines, but that’s the way the people like it
Peering hopefully out the window yet again, I watched as my dad eagerly entered his truck without hesitation. As loud as a distant gunshot, its engine interrupted the previously calm evening. Down the driveway and onto the dusty, old dirt road, he disappeared to a familiar place where he remained until dark. I patiently waited for his return so I could ask about what he had seen. Imagining the beautiful scenery that was described to me provided a connection unlike any I have ever had before with my dad. Spending as much time as possible together was important to me; I was finally ready to accomplish this activity with him and make him proud.
I have no words. I was expecting this, but not this soon.”Umm,” I respond. “I, uh, what?” Then I start bawling. I didn’t know what to do. It felt like everything was changing. “NO! YOU CAN’T!” I yell as I run 10 feet to my room, thinking about the even smaller homes I’m going to live in. I slam the door. I hear my parents talking quietly
Every movement the seadweller made, every single one of his actions were being monitored by Gamzee as if he were a sadistic predator staring upon prey that knew it had been caught; but was still trying to provide resistance to something inevitable. His lip curled back to reveal a row of sharper than sharp fangs, the juggalo growling out a purr under his heavy breaths as he watched Eridan squirm beneath him and unintentionally back himself further up against the wall. Now that only motivated the clown to keep doing what he was doing. The fact that Eridan wouldn't be able to tell anyone about his little escapade with Gamzee without getting a culling fork jabbed against his throat was obviously one that the subjugglator was well aware of. Besides,
The trip was an unwelcome necessity, and my nineteen-year-old twins were given the choice not to go. “Mom, of course we want to go with you!” they both said. “None of the goodness you’ve taught us, shown us, and given us means anything if we can’t be there for family.”
Any illness should be treatable. Everyone should have the chance to be able to recover
The question is how we save the children live in the poverty. Have you ever lived in the circumstance of the poverty? In the America’s society, children live in the poverty is a small percent. Contrary to foreign countries, there is large percent of children living in the poverty. I was born in the foreign country Vietnam. I have experienced and described when I was a kid. I have seen all the circumstances of children living in the poverty including myself.