Home Narrative

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“I can’t wait to go home for break,” that’s all I’ve been hearing the past month here at Geneva College. “Home,” a term I’m not even sure I know the true meaning of because I was raised in two of them; at the same time. My parents got divorced when I was 5 years old so the world of growing up with two Christmas’ and having to always let me friends know which house I was at when they were invited over, was normal to me. I had two blood sisters, three step sisters, a step brother, and a half-sister, and I was never ashamed to tell people that. My life felt normal to me. But what never felt “normal,” was my home. My two decently sized houses with lots of property. My two well decorated and well kept up homes. My two families that loved me unconditionally …show more content…
On April 10th, 2016, my step dad had an unexpected heart attack and was life-flighted to the Cleveland Clinic. I woke up that morning at my sister’s house, away from home of course, and we headed to the hospital around 8AM. My thoughts were all over the place because I’d never really been in a situation like this before, mostly I felt like crying. I didn’t feel like crying because I was scared, but because I was confused. If it was God’s plan to take my step dad’s life that day, what would be the purpose? I tried to remember the last thing that we did together, or the last thing I said to him and I kept wondering if I told him how much I loved and appreciated him enough; because I did appreciate him. Even though he wasn’t my real dad, and having a close relationship with him was uncomfortable at first, I do love him. I thought about all of the times he would pull out his guitar and play my favorite songs while I sang. I remember how as I got older and better, my singing would sometimes even make him cry. I remember how he decided to start calling me “Little Love” after I curiously asked why my mother got the nickname “Love” but I didn’t have one. When he called my mom’s cell phone I would always answer and say “Hello, this is Little Love.” I remember how he loved the idea of “firsts”; my first trip here, my first trip there, my first time riding my own four-wheeler, …show more content…
I was hoping to have this great life but wasn’t putting my trust in God’s plan or loving the people around me the way I should. I treated my parents so poorly and they didn’t even realize it. They have loved me unconditionally and given so much to me and I haven’t ever appreciated it or them. Geneva has taught me that in order to heal in our modern and changing world, we must recognize the materialistic things we have become enslaved to, and learn to live in a community striving toward love and well-being. The alcohol and the drugs and the sex aren’t things that are going to satisfy me, in fact, nothing in this world can. God is the only thing that can fill the void in my life, or make me feel like I

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