It was about 3:45 in the morning on a Sunday, where I found myself and my excited, wide-awake, good-looking boyfriend driving down a dark, eerie road to a hospital that was 61 miles away. Those 61 miles felt like light years to me I didn’t feel right all day today, I had a feeling deep down that my body was telling me that it was time. I was as nervous as I possibly could be, however, I had to remain completely calm because I could possibly be in labor and our first baby could arrive any time. So There I was, just Sitting there in that fast moving car, patiently waiting for the top of my big-ole belly to become super tight, tighter than a rubber band wrapped around your stomach 1000 times.…
as she was playing with the town dog, she remembered her parents and brother, and immediately started crying, but her grandmother was always there to comfort her. Not long after, her parents sent for her to come live with them in America. After the plane landed in the big apple the only thing the little girl could think of was seeing her family, and what made her even happier was the sight of snow for the first time in her life and how it felt on her body. As she grew up, life got harder and harder, especially after her father lost his job and got addicted to cocaine, but things got even worse when her dad set fire to their house with her mother in it, luckily nothing happened to her with the help of her neighbors. That affected the little…
I was born in San Francisco to a single mother, and I have never known anything different. My mother provided an incredible life for me, for which I am eternally grateful. At the age of eleven my mother decided it would be financially best to relocate to Casper, Wyoming, where she would have the help of her family to raise me. Although the move was extremely difficult for both of seeing that we created friendships and bonds with people that we would no longer see as often, my mother has never made a decision she didn’t think was best for both of us. My mother always puts my well-being first which has given me my love of helping others.…
My grandfather, Jerry, grew up with peanut butter on everything. Hot dogs, hamburgers, and sandwiches always had a hefty slab of peanut butter. My grandfathers family did this because they were poor and it helped make the food more filling. He continued the tradition and raised his children with peanut butter on everything. It took his kids awhile to start enjoying it but once they did they would always ask for the delicious sweet spread on everything!…
My mother and father divorced when I was at age 9. My father moved here to CO. My mother stayed in GA. There she completed her nursing degree. I remember helping her with homework and study nights.…
Surrounded by a team of nurses, one doctor, and what seemed to be a grouping of blinding lights, I had a peculiar moment of serenity. I can’t quite explain whether it was the epidural or the fact that for twelve hours my body was engulfed by excruciatingly painful contractions which seemed to be attacking me in a sporadic manner, but in that one moment everything was perfect. Somehow I just let go off every single fear I had, I just remembered that in any moment there would be an extraordinary occurrence. Although a natural part in many women’s lives, since the beginning of time, it was a phenomenon in my life.…
I hate Christmas because nothing is phenomenal. I am not being facetious. I assume that Santa was busy and remiss when he forgot to give me a Christmas gift. Every time I saw other children play with their new toys by looking through the translucent window, I consternated about Christmas, and felt disconsolate. It is a paradox that a rich country should be so many poor people.…
I believe in not taking others for granted. My great-grandmother, Maria Guzman was 101 years old when she passed away last year. My aunts, uncles, and my own mom after her death started planning her funeral, clearing her mobile house, etc. Through this I learned more about her. My mom was always telling me stories about her and how she was as a grandmother to my aunts, uncles, and mom.…
Zach, the Manager of the Ridgedale Dairy Queen, was my first boss. He’s the kind of guy that I would avoid eye contact with if I were walking across campus alone, over 6 feet, burly, and with big, curly hair and beard. Besides being physically intimidating, he’s loud, he’s opinionated, the very first day he asked me, “So, Maren, what are your politics?” which, unsurprisingly took me, a mousy Minnesota native, aback. I took my time and answered, he looked at me for a moment before spitting out a long response, but the brief surprise that crossed his face as thought out opinions came out of my plump, female, rosy haired and cheeked self didn’t evade me.…
Growing up my mother and I had a very difficult relationship, it was a very difficult time in my life. We went through a lot of fights, name calling, hurtful words, wishing each other ill and pain. Growing up my mother used to verbally abuse me by calling me all kinds of names, criticized the way I looked and parts of my body. I was either too fat or too skinny but I was never good enough for her.…
When I first learned of this assignment my first thought was to interview my mom. She is the one person in my life I am closest to. Since we are only twenty three years apart, I thought it would be best to focus on her life up to the point where she decided to have kids. Though I knew most of what she told me it was still nice to just sit and talk about her life experiences. My mother was born to older parents and was the youngest of three children.…
My mother and I did not share a typical mother/daughter relationship. There was a time when we would not even speak and years would pass before I would even see her again. However, I would always see her when I looked into the mirror, since I looked just like her. I would hear her laugh because our laughs were identical, and small details we shared would remind me of the relationship I was missing, the relationship I felt everyone took advantage of. During my senior year all hope of a possible reconciliation would be lost.…
Once Upon a time a child was born, also known as me, Alex was the child to Colleen and David Montgomery. The family had another beautiful six-year-old daughter named Allison. Allison had been dancing ballet since she was four, which lead me to pursue in ballet to even today. My mother queen Colleen was adopted and was raised in a Norwegian family. While my father had always had his parents.…
I awoke to the sound of the baby monitor crackling with a voice comforting my first born child. As I adjusted to a new position, my arm brushed against my wife, lying next to me. I lurched out of my bed, threw open the door and ran down the hall. I swung the door open and almost cried out of fear, shock, and utter disgust. The figure could almost be considered human under the right conditions.…
Every Saturday, I distinctly recall the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. The radio would be playing in the background, masked by the overwhelming chatter occurring throughout the house. So many things happening in such a small space: what I remember most, is the sound of laughter, and the smiles that surrounded me. My grandpa hollering because he cannot hear the television, my mother still drowsy from the sleepless night, My grandmother singing to the radio that was barely audible over the commotion, and me, invariably sat looking at all that surrounded me, enthralled at how lucky I was to have a heart so full.…