Personal Narrative: My Life In The Midwest

On a cold, blustery February day, I found myself back in my hometown, broke, broken, alone and confused. In a daring escape, like something out of an old war movie, my mother had come to Phoenix and liberated me from my husband. In the dead of night, we packed up ten boxes and two suitcases, slipping away quiet as death, to board a plane early the next morning.
In Phoenix, where I had been living for three years, it was warm. Warm enough, that just the day before, I had gone swimming in the pool outside our apartment with my two sons. Stepping off the plane in the Midwest, it was cold, snowing and miserable. My boys had never seen snow in their young lives, and they were not impressed with either of them, loudly crying their objections to the entire situation. Shivering and blue, my mother hustled us into the terminal, and after claiming our baggage, out to her awaiting car.
It was a system shock for me and my sons. I had grown up in the Midwest, but after so many years of dry, desert heat, I was no more adapted to the cold than they were. Huddled down in the car, shivering in my thin coat, my mother blasted the heater to try and make us comfortable. But for most of the two-hour drive back to Quincy, the boys cried with the unfamiliar feeling of cold, and I was too emotionally and physically exhausted to do much more than tremble in the front seat. …show more content…
I was still broke and dependent but living with LeeAnn and Vern, at least, gave me a chance to try and figure out what to do with my life. Putting my life through the filter of reality, I knew my future was bleak if I did nothing. My education had stopped at graduating from high school, and Nev hadn't let me keep a job for any length of time while I lived in Phoenix, making my work history spotty at best, and a less than enticing employee for most employers. I needed to make changes to my life, I just didn't know where to begin,