My Experience In My Life

Stomp,stomp,stomp!That's all that the 12 year old boy David Henry heard day after day. That’s because he was shipped with his Dad to the military. Then one day on the ship that the Army likes to call the submaripper. It was called the submaripper because the ship was 40 acres in total and could sink a ship by just ramming into it. Another 12 year old boy came to David who was quietly waiting for any excitement below deck. He said his name was Tanner and like David his mom was shipped to the military.

Hope Rebecca Davis, a little formal don’t you think? You’d think that my parents thought I was going to be the hope of the world or something of that sort, but that is the farthest from the truth. I was named Hope just because my mom thought that Hope was a “pretty” name. As you know that was probably a bit disappointing for me, but my name represents a great deal to me. Hope means to have a feeling of expectation or desire for a certain thing to happen… then I considered the following, I can be the person in the world that makes these things happen. I can be the change in this unfluctuating society. I can be the person I want to be when I grow older, I just don’t know what I desire to do yet. But experiences in my life such as these are going to guide me to where I need to be.

My past few years of education were, I think, the best couple of years of my school experience of my life. Teachers and friends affected how I acted, learned and studied in school.

The airport right now is packed. The steady sounds of feet against flooring echoes in my ears. A child's scream brings me back from a daydream. For a second I forgot where I was or what I was about to do.  I honestly still can't believe this is happening. Especially to me. From the dull normalized life I live, I am about to throw in a mixture of crazy the likes I couldn't even fathom.

As I grow older and live new experiences, I realize how my childhood and God led me to the circumstance I am now, which is my last semester of nursing school. I come to appreciate my mother’s hard work to get me through school as well as through life. Growing up in a low-income family in Los Angeles, California with a dad who was a full-time alcoholic and drug addict, was not a good circumstance to grow up. My mother did not speak English or had a job and believed that a married woman is to fully depend on her husband. There were times when my 2 siblings and I had nothing to eat since my dad barely came home with money after spending it all on alcohol and drugs. Due to this living situation and the fact that I was the oldest child, I felt the strong responsibility to drop out of school once I was old enough to work. Education was not an option in my future. Since we didn’t have much money, my mom signed my siblings and me to free afterschool programs at my local Catholic church, so we could learn more about our religion and the importance of God in our lives. I remember my excitement to wake up early Sunday mornings to get ready for mass, even though it took 2 bus routes to get to church. I learned from nuns and priests the importance of caring for others as if they were my own family because everyone deserves the same type of care. Caring was something I learned through religion, and not something I was born knowing. As a way to start fresh, my dad decided to move us to

Trying to get up used to be simple, now it’s an agonising rush of pain through my whole body, right from my head to the tip of my toes. The physio stands next to me, holding my arm as I grasp onto the bar next to me, to help steady my balance. All I think about now is the accident. How it all happened so fast - one minute I was overlooking the mountains with Ella, cuddled up in blankets enjoying the view, the next I woke up in hospital, when things took a turn for the worst. I guess Ella will be going to the Olympics without me, which doesn’t seem to bother her. The doctor said it’s a long road ahead, for my recovery. My stomach dropped as I felt the rush of anxiety starting to take over my body, bit by bit, as butterflies in my stomach grew. The hospital would be my 2nd home for a while. Getting rehab, seeing physios, regular check ups, this is my life now but it wasn’t the one I thought I would live. I am meant be on my way to Switzerland in a few months for the winter Olympics, but I cannot say that Ella seems to be upset about it at all.

The never ending days of summer were quickly winding down. It was that time of year again. That time where every kid dreads waking up early every day. Where we have to sit on hard as rock chairs for hours. Eat foods that look and taste like a mixture of foreign cuisines together in a bowl. My fulfilled summer adventures were now just a mere distant memory like that old shirt tucked away at the bottom of a drawer to be never seen again. Now I have to face reality; it was my final year as a high schooler.

I once stumbled across an anonymous quote that said, “Never forget where you come from, but strive for a place you have never been.” As I contemplated the statement’s significance, I was struck by the realization that I cannot point to one place or time in my life to find where I’m from. In the last twenty years of my life, I have lived on both the east and west coast of the United States, and shifted between all sorts of communities across the socio-economic and cultural spectrum. It is through my experiences in these places that I have learned to find strength in my loved ones, have confidence in myself, and look towards the future with anticipation.

I grew up in a small community and grew accustomed to the people I knew. But I’ve also moved around and had to cope with the challenges of new introductions.

My life was perfect, I got along with my siblings, my mom and I were close… Well then there’s my dad. We were always really close, he and I would go out to the barn together at the old house and he would speak to me as if I were the audience. We always enjoyed each other's company until one day he started acting strange, and then stranger, and then even stranger until the point where my mom found him in the middle of the night standing in a parking lot in his pajamas. She eventually left him… I don’t blame her, I mean he wouldn’t get help.

On Saturday, June 24, 6:00am me and my family were getting ready to go to Omaha .To experience going somewhere far away from home.But that wasn't the only reason why we were going we were .Also going because we wanted to see the zoo some people were talking about it and how wonderful and amazing it was to go there.Everyone was exciting me, my sisters and my mom too because it was are first time that we were going to stay at a hotel.

Suddenly, I was awakened and violently thrown towards the front of the airplane. My eyes shot open and I blinked three or four times to adjust my dry, out of place contact lenses. The light bothered my sensitive eyes but I was too nervous to even think about shutting them. I spread my arms and legs creating a human starfish, contracted my stiff muscles, and let out a tiny grunt. I stood up from the same seat I was acquainted with for nine hours. When I rose to my feet, something felt strange, something felt different, something felt out of the ordinary. I quickly realized, I was standing at the London Heathrow Airport about to embark on, what I originally thought would be, the most miserable trip of my life.

Despite how average my life has been thus far, especially compared to others, I have learned so much. Whether I was faced with minor complications or major decisions, I had much knowledge to gain. Regardless of the outcome of my actions, I simply reflected on what I had to learn and carried on. Because, regardless of whether I like it or not, time will continue forward, even if I’m not. If not my age, then it’s my experiences that define who I’ve grown to become.

Everything comes with time, from age to understanding. I have come to realize many things over the years, but some have been much more significant than others. We have read quite a few pieces as of late, and I feel learning from others is essential in our everyday lives.

Aurora, Illinois, a suburb near Chicago with many hills, big and small, and many lakes, rivers, and ponds. The townhouse I lived in was quite noisy at times, thanks to mom and dad. Aside from all the parental chaos, home was home, purple chicken noodle soup and bike rides were what I looked forward to. I loved the landscape and how much of it there was, the sky was always so colorful, the fireflies lit up the city parks making the city seem magical in a way. Aurora was a city that was all about unity, everyone came together for events, clubs, and during tragedies. You would always see a group of people running the hills in matching shirts or a whole neighborhood celebrating someone's birthday.