My Memories Of My Sister And I Were Loved

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

One day waking up thinking this was a normal day at my birth home, Jamaica, I walked to my grandparents’ house, stayed there for a couple of hours, then I saw this pretty, shiny, new Nissan Altima pulled up, and stopped. Moments later a tall dark-skinned guy stepped out the vehicle, fixed his hat, and walked to the door. When the doors open he burst into tears and said to me, “Hey son”, at first my siblings and I was in shock because we have not seen our father since 2004, I did not know what he looked like until I saw pictures of me and him together. Later that night we party and have fun together. The next morning, he drove in and we took pictures, then, we went to dunns-river falls, also we went and eat.

7th grade was the year I woke up. My mom called me into her bedroom late one afternoon and was still sitting on her bed, wearing her pajamas. The bright and cheerful sunshine that lit up the room gave a false ambiance of the tension that clouded the air. I already knew what she was going to say, but I did not want to believe it as the truth. I had noticed that my mom and dad's relationship with one another was growing apart just by the way they acted around each other. The conversations between them became shorter and their affection for one another began to fade. My dad spent his nights falling asleep watching TV on the couch, while my mom slowly disappeared back into her bedroom, alone. This had been happening for a while now, so I do not know why I was even surprised when my mom said to me that, “Your dad and I are getting a divorce”. I should have seen it coming. The clues were all in front of me, but I was too afraid to put them together. I was scared because, for the first time in my life, the image of my "perfect" family was crumbling before me. I knew inside that my family was falling apart, but I was desperately holding onto the fibers that I thought were keeping us together. It is hard to believe that one encounter can change the course of one's life forever. In this instance, I was awoken from the dream that I had been living in for so long.

It was a beautiful, sunny day in South Florida. I was six years old, playing by the pool with my new puppy. I loved swimming in the pool almost every day after school. I also enjoyed going out on our boat after school or crossing the street and going to the beach. My father came home one evening with some interesting news. Now, I do not remember exactly how I felt about the news at that time, but it seemed like I did not mind that much. He had announced that we were going to move back to my birth country, Belgium. I had been living in Florida for five years and it was basically all I had known so I did not know what to expect. I had to live with my mom at first, and then my sister would join us after she graduated high school and my father

I will never forget that day, the day I casually walked downstairs to find my parents sitting face to face at the kitchen table with both arms crossed and a serious look on their faces. I slowly walk towards my dad who is reaching out to give me a hug, looking at me with his sorrowful eyes, tells me that he will be moving out. At the time, I remember feeling confused, but I did not feel so emotionally affected because I was only just 5 years old. Being raised in a single parent household has been a challenge in my life and has impacted me through financial problems, social situations, and maturity.

I remember the orange walls in our living room. The depressing atmosphere in the house that day. I realized what was actually happening when they started fighting in front of Luci and I. They would fight about the silliest things, but this one was the biggest. Dad cheated on mom. They made us go back to our room, we didn't listen. We peeked behind the hallway and watched those bright orange walls turn dark gray. They were yelling and screaming and mom was sobbing, barely able to talk. It was a horrible day. When dad moved out Luci and I were very confused and weren't exactly sure what was going on, we were only so young. My mom got very sad and cried a lot. We stayed with grandma most of the week, and I always loved seeing her. Mom got more

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

I sat on my bed with my arms wrapped tightly around my pillow swaying back and forth. My mom lightly knocked on my door and asked if she could come in. I tried to wipe away the stains left by my long stream of tears, but I felt my skin sting and eyes swell instead. She asked if I wanted to talk about it, but my response got stuck in my throat, so all I could do was shake my head and shove my head deep inside my pillow. Her bare feet smacked on the concrete as she made her way over to my bed. Her weight made an indent in the corner of my mattress as she sat down and laid a hand on my back.

Grandma and Grandpa are probably some of the most amazing people in the world. I am really blessed to be so close with grandma and grandpa. Both distance wise and relationship wise. I don’t even know where to start. Between all the cooking lessons, rock shows, R.V. shows, birthdays, track meets, concerts, holidays, dinners, snakes, shopping trips and so on I have a lot of ground to cover in not a lot of time. I’ll start with the cooking lessons.

All families experience their share of good times and bad times, I can remember so many wonderful times. Obviously, there were bad times, my parents fought a lot of the time too. I can remember being snuggled in bed, dreaming of lollipops and cotton candy gum drops, only to be woken by the sound of faint arguing through the walls; I never did let them know I heard. There were several occasions I can recall being scoped into my mother’s arms and packed into the car, we were running to my grandma’s house. It always went the same way in these situations, we would arrive at my grandma’s, my father would come and speak to my mother, and then we would go home again. I never really understood it; It was my first lesson in adulthood,doing things

It happened after school on June 8th, 2011, a Wednesday. There were no clouds in the sky and the sun was blazing. It was so hot that our neighbors were swimming in an inflatable pool in front of the apartment. I was inside watching them and I wanted to go swimming as well, but our neighbors didn’t like us. Our mother and father wanted us to do it, probably because they wanted to do drugs like they used to, or still do. I don’t know. I still don’t understand why they did drugs. I stopped watching because it was like torture. Minutes later the cops came in and said that we had to leave. I was struggling not to cry, but I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears and hugged my father for unbeknownst to me, the last time ever. I don’t even remember saying anything to my mother. This doesn’t make sense to me because my father did a lot worse things to me than my mother. We were then put into a grey van and driven to our new house, which turned out to be our forever

Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was

I don’t remember much about that day. That day led to a lot of bad things and dark days. I was in middle school, 14 or 15. I was feeling a little bit better after i woke up. I had already been gone for a week or more. It start out as a normal morning. I ate breakfast, got dressed, and did all of the essential things to get ready for school. My sister was already ready. She was going to highschool at that time. My brother was isolated in his room, my father was asleep. My mom is always up when we get ready to go to school. That was no surprise. Smokie one of our cats at the time was really old. My mom was was sitting on our couch using her computer. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was in the air. The sun was just coming up, but it was

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.

It was a Saturday, and it was my mom’s turn to take care of my nine-year-old brother and ten-year-old me for the weekend. My parents lived separately, and we had to live with my mom most of the time. Even so, I tried to contact my dad as often as I could. He was the parent whom I had a stronger connection with. He always did his best to express his care and love toward my brother and me. However, my dad didn’t answer me this time. I sat on the couch and waited in case he would return my call. I glanced around our dull, brown living room waiting, swinging my feet back and forth. Just waiting.