This Guy is Gay

In the fall of 2012, my mother almost succumbed to her illness. I had just begun my freshman year of high school midst angry conversations between my parents and the threat of separation. It would seem as if they bickered about the most irrelevant things, almost as if they had no other reason to fight other than the fight itself. Those moments were excruciatingly lonely, my father worked until the dead of night and my mother would come home exhausted from treatment. I now know that there was no one who felt more unvalued than my mother. I wish I had the ability to iron away this blunder that destiny had fabricated, however foolish this desire is.

Unlike most people, I did not get to be a carefree child for long. Even though I always said that I could not wait to grow up, now I wish that it all did not happen so fast and early in my life. From eleven to twelve years old—that would be the period I describe as the time I had to put my big-girl pants on and face the real, cruel and unwelcoming adult world. In that time period, I can specifically pinpoint two major events that ended my childhood: my move from Russia to the United States and the birth of my baby sister Toma. To some those might not seem significant enough to change someone’s life to the extent that they changed mine; however those events molded me into the person I am today.

Throughout life I’ve experienced a rather unpleasant childhood with the absence of my guiding figures: my parents. Seeing them rush in and out of the house to go to the hospital with my younger brother shaped me in a way nothing else could have. It made me who I am today, as well as aspired me towards what I want to be one day.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

On May 11th 2013, my grandma passed away due to pancreatic cancer. A little later that year on September 25th, my mom received a call from my aunt in Guam that my dad had passed away in his sleep. Then on May 14th 2014, my grandpa passed from complications of an allergic reaction to a medication. So within a year, I was left to deal with three immediate family deaths, one right after another. Losing such important figures in one’s life could leave someone depressed and unmotivated to move on with their own life and to rise above those challenges is difficult, yet possible. During this time of hardship, I grew discouraged and saddened, but over time I became motivated to set aside these struggles and make a change.

Even six year old me could see the great suffering my father experienced not only mentally but physically. I recall once walking in the bathroom and seeing my father vomit, it was the first time I seen him so vulnerable. I could see the pain in his eyes. It was our third month in the united states and my father could not find a job, it was killing him. He was considering a job as a dishwasher to support his family, for that I could never repay him. A sprinkle of hope glimmered in our dark world when my dad got a job as a dispatcher at a local Airport, when I look back now I wonder if father ever felt disappointed that his hard nights of studying in college was futile, if he know that he would have to give up his career to support his family. Soon we moved out of my aunt and uncle’s how’s into a small one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood. By that time my mother has lost a total of thirty pounds. The once vibrant and sociable women was always tired, she often made called relatives back home which resulted in her crying for hours. My father would often cook and clean, it was fascinating to see my dad performing these tasks

For as long as I can remember, my parents always showed their care for me, and with everything they did, they kept their children in mind. Although what they did wasn’t always in the best interests of my siblings and I, they never intended to harm us. What strengthened our love even more was all of the struggles we faced together. These things, although shocking to others, are what strengthened our family’s bond. Even after my father became a serious alcoholic, he never stopped caring for us. My love for him and my mother reciprocated this. Throughout my childhood, my mother and father never stopped trying to do the best for their kids. They simply did it in their own special ways. Because of their dedication to me, I never gave up on them, even if at times, it may not have been the best idea.”

On January 5, 2009 my father pasted away. He and I did not have the typical father-son relationship; we did not have a relationship at all. I presumed that it would have a little if any affect on me. However, as the semester continued, it seemed to get worse. Besides my father’s passing, several weeks later my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. It was difficult for me to deal with, but it was more difficult for my mother to handle.

As I headed back to school after the August recess, I was in a somber mood. It was my final year in high school and with the certificate of secondary school examinations closing in, I was still uncertain about it. Earlier on, my mother bid me farewell with words of encouragement for the forthcoming exams. She was bed ridden at that time and in my absence there was no one else who would take care of her but my three younger siblings. I contemplated quitting school and staying home for her sake but she adamantly insisted that I go back. She reassured me that all would be well. Unfortunately three weeks later, she passed on, just two months to the start of my examinations. Although inauspicious, these circumstances were pivotal in defining my

When I turned 11-years-old my whole childhood began to change my life went from being perfect to everything but perfect. One day I came home to hear the news my father, my best friend; my hero was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. Not knowing the struggle my family was about to take on I just began to cry. I had a million things running through my head what’s going to happen? Will everything be okay? Why him? What is going to happen? With all these things rushing through my head all I could do was cry not knowing this was least worse to come.

There are moments in everyone’s life that have the possibility to make or break them. A person can choose to succumb to the brutality of this long ride they call life or can climb out of the pit of despair and face your challenges head-on. I found myself at a crossroads and had this choice to make when my father passed away. This is my most life changing moment, but it isn’t even a moment, yet more like a snowball effect that has caused mass destruction throughout my entire life. Even though I have lost so much because of my father’s death, it is because of this that I have gained so much such as perseverance and responsibility.

Sometimes, the sorrowful events in life bring out the best in your life and yourself. Two years ago, I went through true maturation through a traumatic event that immensely affected me as a person. As pencils were being sharpened and the sounds of school filtered back into my life, I found out my Grandma had Cancer. In an effort to provide better treatment, she came to live with us for four months. That time was incredibly precious and special as I saw my Grandma in a whole new light. I saw her strength, her tenacity, and her positivity.

When you have felt as though the world is throwing you curve balls every millisecond since you can remember, you tend to grow bitter with the universe; always questioning, “but why me?” Growing up in this home—this family, has, in the long run anyway: been beneficial. However, I did not always believe it could be a good thing to ride the road to hell daily. I used to believe the world was cruel, and that suffering would never come to an end—I was a scapegoat for all of my family’s wrong doings. Today, I see the reason’s behind actions, and I have come to appreciate the fact that I grew up at the ripe age of seven.

Although its not always easy, some days being worse than others, I keep persevering. I’ve developed life skills to help me overcome obstacles and I know I have built up the strength to be able to handle the worst of situations. It’s important to me to live every day to the fullest and never take time for granted. Life can be taken away so quickly, therefore its important to not leave any regrets, do what makes you happy, and always tell the people you love, that you love them. Although I don’t seem much different than my peers in most situations I encounter and most conversations I participate in, I will still always be the girl whose mom passed away. My experience is very meaningful to my life and I feel as if I wouldn’t be complete without sharing. The loss of my mom has impacted me significantly, shaping my personality and all other aspects of who I

I held my siblings hands, and my mother’s as I was crying my last tears. I heard a voice, from my mother, “Sweet child, never, look at this moment as a disaster, look at it as a” Her voice died out. I hugged her with all my might and cried at the same time. I could see them all smiling, as if they were in a better place now.