Personal Narrative: Growin Growing Up At Home

As I wake up to the blinding, beating, scorching sun on my face I hear the clashing of plates and a distant yet familiar rhythm coming from what I assume is the kitchen. I groggily attempt to grab my phone to check the time when I clumsily slam my phone onto the floor. Scrambling out of bed I pick up my phone only to figure out it’s 9:17 in the morning. I sneakingly walk to the kitchen barefooted to see what all the commotion is when my mother quickly catches my not so sneaky footsteps and yells at me to put some shoes on and get to cleaning. Immediately running to my room, jumping into bed covering myself from the responsibilities of having to clean the house my mother yanks the sheets off, drags me out of bed and there goes the rest of my Saturday morning. …show more content…
Ever since the day my family was released from the hospital, attending Sunday mass was a priority we all shared. From 11:30 until 12:30 we had not shared a single word but had all shared the same thought. We united as a family and in the one hour our bond had grown exponentially. Growing up my father had to work the day shift and my mother the night just to keep my family stable. My father would wake up early in the morning to attend his maintenance job while my mom stayed back to watch out for my older brother and I. He would arrive around dinner time and then my mom would leave to work as a janitor and come back home hours before my dad would leave. I never understood why our only bonding time was on