Personal Narrative Essay: The Day My Mother And My Father

I was ten years old the day my life was torn in two pieces. That was the day I was forced to choose between my mother and my father. At this age, I did not fully grasp the concept of divorce, but I understood we were no longer one “happy” family. We would no longer attend church together, we would no longer sit down for family dinners or start debates about what was going on in the news.
The days to follow were silent and depressing, my father was moving out and I begged him to take me, but all he said was “stay with your mother”. Did my father no longer love me? Did he no longer want me to be part of his life? Those were questions that haunted me for weeks, while he was gone, until the day of my eleventh birthday. My father was waiting …show more content…
The yard was filled with familiar faces except one, my mother. I never thought I would be celebrating a birthday without her by my side, helping me blow out the candles before they melted all over the cake. It was almost as if a piece of me was missing, as I got older that piece was replaced with birthday cards, text messages, and voicemails wishing me a happy birthday. She did not attend any of my birthdays after the divorce, I guess she thought it would be easier. Finally I realized she knew she could not raise my siblings and me, she took the easy way out and started her life over without anyone else. She let drugs consume her, she stopped writing, she stopped passing by, and all together cut herself out of the picture. She did not give me a choice, I was kicked out of her life like an unwanted dog. It took me many years to understand the painful reality of the situation, she was not coming back for me. The gap she left slowly became easier to fill as I grew farther away from my mother and closer to my …show more content…
What I did not realize is that love is so much more than the blissful moments, it is heartbreak, it is sacrifice, and most of all it is putting others before yourself. My father chose the happiness and safety of his children over the love of his life, knowing our family would never be the same. He assumed the roles of both parents and worked harder than anyone I knew to keep my family happy. Raising four kids, being a single parent and working forty plus hours a week, shows dedication. My mother had nineteen years of my life to show me she loved me, which never happened. She told me plenty of times that she did, but actions speak louder than words and the actions she showed were everything besides love. It took me half of my life to realize a simple change in perspective was all I needed to smile everyday rather than cry myself to sleep at night. We choose everyday whether we want to live our lives in misery or be thankful for the aspects of life we still have. I chose to wipe away the tears and enjoy not having to choose between my mother and father because my father was already