The Story Of My Life

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

There’s so much to say and so little words to say it with. First of all, I love and miss you. Everybody loves and misses you, especially Kalli. It’ll be two months since you passed when I turn this assignment in, but I have a feeling it will still feel just as unreal as it did that night. I know you’re watching all of us with your mother, sipping on a can of Natural Light or a glass of boxed wine and laughing when we laugh, smiling when we smile, and crying when we cry. These are all the things I wish I could have said to you, what I should have said to you because now I realize life is short.

My life has had its ups and downs and, for that, I am utterly grateful; for it has made me a stronger and better person. As a child, I had a simple but fruitful childhood. I was born before one in the afternoon, and I am told that I was welcomed with much love on February 13, 1992, in National City, California. I was named after my father’s youngest brother to commemorate his honor. I would be the last child my parents would ever have. My father had been married twice and fathered a total of five boys. Growing up, I would say, that we as a family, had our ups and downs just like any other family; however, our ups and downs, in the end, ultimately, always brought us closer and closer –we learned to lean on each other, to support one another, to preserve each other. This, I believe, helped me for what was to come. In my early years, my mother fell into an illness that she would never overcome. It vastly impacted my life in the most dramatic way possible. After her passing, it was like a great icon in my life was now gone… an icon that would never return. The months that followed were the hardest in my life. But with the help of my loving father and brothers I would prevail; I would eventually fill this hole in my heart and raise to an enhanced me. The void left from my mother’s passing helped bring the family even closer; it was like a cliché: for the most intense of hopes come from the saddest tragedies.

My grandfather and I didn’t see each other on the daily basis because we use to live eight hours away from each other. Yet, when my grandfather would visit me from time to time and I would be the most joyful teenager in the world. My grandfather and I would have endless talks about soccer but they wouldn’t last forever. Suddenly, my parents informed me that we would be moving to Houston. I was amazed with the extraordinary news because I would

April 26, 2004, I remember having dinner at my grandma’s house with my cousins, aunt, uncle, brother, and parents. I never knew that this would be the last time I would hug my grandpa’s neck and tell him goodnight. I was only four years old and that night is one of the only nights I can remember clearly from my childhood. I believe I remember it because that night and following day would have a bigger impact on my life than I ever knew. As I grow up i feel like I am getting to know my grandpa piece by piece from the impact he had on others, his ability to always have a good time, and through myself as his friends see his traits in me.

My mother enters the room and sits in the chair across from me. As I look at her I cannot help but think that I actually do not know anything about this woman in front of me. I ask her to tell me anything I may not know, an interesting fact or a childhood memory. I ask her to tell me her life story. Duana Gaye Juneau grew up as the youngest of seven children. Her parents were hard workers. Because her father was a farmer and her mother was a nurse, she grew up understating what hard work does for a person. Duana’s father instilled the idea, “anything is possible”. With tears in her eyes she explains the effect these three words have had on her life and career. Today, as she spoke of her father. She tells me the fond memories she has of driving the tractor and feeding chickens, and pigs while growing up. My grandfather taught her that if she worked hard she would greatly succeed in life.

The sun shone high, a little too high. Walking down the path of the Washington Monument in, quite obviously, Washington D.C., the Lincoln memorial looked bigger of an obstacle than my friends and I had thought it'd be. I made a grand mistake of wearing a heavy shirt; sweat was dripping in torrents down my neck. Elli and Kennedie, my greatest friends who always remained faithful, were walking somewhat a few paces in front of me. The heat was very unbearable, but Elli's mom, who lagged behind me more than 10 feet, had seemed to of taken the brunt of the heat.

A dimly-burning fire illuminated the shadows that had begun to slide behind the furniture, its last few divergent, dying embers perfectly mimicking the colors so dutifully draped around the room, reflecting off the red-and-gold trinkets trimming the tops of the shelves and tapestries trailing down the walls. Whatever little warmth it offered only paled in comparison to that which was radiating from right beside me.

Maria slid her dress over her head, and wiggled as she pulled it down and straightened it.

I don’t remember being created, but I suppose that no one really does. I do remember moving to where I currently live though. I remember his hands gripping my frame, and the look on his face. His smile was spread wide from the cheek to cheek, revealing a set of teeth that was no longer whole. The sun shone orange off of the whites of his eyes and revealed little specks of green and gold where they otherwise looked like mud. He talked, but he wasn’t talking to me. I suppose that creators rarely speak directly to what they created. “Maybe I’ll actually be able to sell this one. I really think I might be able to.” He took a few steps backward across the hard wooden floor before placing his hands, his thin fingers, in contorted forms against

Monday morning came and I couldn’t fucking believe this shit, out of four classes me and Haley had three together. Tuesday Morning and I couldn’t believe this shit again, out of two classes we were in both of them together. I thought about changing classes, but then what Kev said hit me like a ton of bricks. Why cry over it instead start working on making her mine. Honestly I didn’t know how to do this so like a sucker for the first week I snuck and stared at her. After a week or so, we ended up in a four person group to work on a group project. Just my luck, but hey it is what it is. The group met up in the library twice a week until we had the project completed. Once the project was completed, a few people decided to have a get

He stands tall in the small crowd, no one seems to notice him leaning against the pole, eyes glued to his phone. I observe him from across the room, his chocolate curls swept to the right a small ringlet protruding the opposite way in protest. He catches me staring, a mouthful of perfectly straight white teeth are flashed in my direction. I look away trying not to be obvious only to glance back in hope of catching another glimpse of this perfect human; but my heart sinks as the slim figure is nowhere to be found. A firm finger taps my shoulder, turning to see who requests my attention I notice it’s the man from across the room. “Hi I’m Tom”. A deep English voice fills my ears, his voice bringing me comfort and excitement. I feel small as I

As a small child, I had always wished to meet the man of my dreams, start a family, and achieve success in the path I chose. As I grew, I learned about the world around me and myself. I learned these things gradually each small bit of information being picked up and put with other pieces, until one piece came along that was just a little bit bigger and more significant than the others.

I throw my books on the bed and approached the jack slowly, it was the one I asked for an astonishing leather jacket I was surprised my mom actually got it for me. Then I looked at my brothers bed and sall a gross ugly brown jacket on his bed with a little green stain at the top. It looked twice the size of him. I felt a little bad for him When I went over to touch the jacket i felt like my hand was touching a rugged dog. Then I looked at my new jacket and took the attention of his ugly brown jacket with a nasty old green staine. I decided to try it on. It looked perfect not too big not too small. I looked at myself in the mirror the combed my hair so it would have a flip. I looked exactly like a biker dood.

People don’t realize the sad truth that I’ve been holding on for and secretly suffering with most of my life. People seem to see me as a girl that is naturally bubbly, happy, and outgoing. This was a way for me to hide my real emotions in the time when my depression and anxiety were major factors impacting my self-esteem, just a couple of years ago. So, yes, I admit it -- I was a victim of depression and anxiety. My anxiety has been occurring ever since I was a toddler. My usual anxious behavior would be when I would easily get nervous, wouldn’t talk that well in order to be understood, would go through emotional meltdowns at times, and so forth. My depression however, seem to connect a lot with my anxiety because of my meltdowns and it would easily bring my self-esteem down. One interesting fact about my depression is that it got extreme when I was in middle school. Many events in that time of my life made me feel absolutely worthless inside.