What we do with the path is up to us and the choices we make. I am reminded of mine daily and the choices I made to continue the path to where I am now.
It was the summer of my 11th birthday. About to be a preteen, the time when you are growing and learning. SO many things changing emotionally and physically. Girls are becoming something to focus on more than ever. At the time My brother and I were at boy scout camp in northern Minnesota. A beautiful part of the state. The air was very clean and the weather was a perfect 80 degrees. I was amongst the …show more content…
This was going to be our new home now until my parents could figure everything out. Well for 3 of it was. My mother was going to live elsewhere. A little apartment in another part of the city. As the summer went on I learned why. It was the beginning of the end of our happy family.
As the summer went on I spent most of the time away from this place I was supposed to call home.
Our bright orange was being worked on and everything was going to be normal again. My room would be better than new and my dad said he would buy me anything I wanted. My days were spent at Morris park, the local basketball courts were my new home now. Everyday I was there as part of a youth park program that kept youth busy during the summer. It was my release from the mess that my home life was. One day as I was mowing the lawn at the what we called “orange house” I broke down crying. I was so confused as to what was happening. Why did my mother have to move to her own apartment?
Where they still married? Was I going to have 2 families from now on. My dog Tasha, a beautiful
German Shepard, comforted me in the yard that day. It was one of the worse days of my life.
Towards the end of the summer I would learn the truth of what was happening. My parent were …show more content…
Where were we going to live now? Back to the orange house we go. My mother was still living at this house but we had nowhere else to go. My brother Nick was spending most night at a friend’s house so it was just me and my mom and dad. They hated each other and alcohol did not help the situation. One fall night my mother was drinking as I was playing chess with my dad. They were arguing as usual and then it got violent. My mother started bashing her head through the glass china cabinet that sat in the corner behind her. It was one of the worse sights I will ever see. The two of them living together didn’t last long and before I knew it I wouldn’t see my mother again for a long time.
In the fall of the same year we were told that we could no longer live at the orange house as it had been reposed by the bank. Three of us had to find yet another place to live. The place that we could afford ended up being the worse place ever for a 12 year old white boy. Inner city Minniapolis was not a happy place. One day while outside with my brother we heard someone yell. “That’s my brothers bike” and then came the gun shots. Not less than 50 feet from us, we watched as a kid was killed over