Everything seems like it’s falling out of place, it’s going too fast, and my mind is out of control. I think these thoughts as I lay on my new bed, in my new room, in this new house, in this new city, wondering how I got to this place. “My life was fine,” I say to myself, “I didn’t want to go.” Thinking back I wonder how my father felt as he came home to the house in Stockton, knowing his wife and kids left to San Diego to live a new life. Every time that thought comes to my mind, it feels as if I’m carrying a ten ton boulder around my heart; weighing me down with guilt. The thought is blocked out as I close my eyes, picturing my old room; I see the light brown walls again and the vacation pictures of the Florida and camping trip stapled to them. I can see the photo of me on the ice rink with my friends and the desk that I built with my own hands. I see my bed; it still has my checkered blue and green blanket on it! Across from the room stands my bulky gray television with its back facing the black curtain covered closet. My emotions run deep, sadness rages through my body with a wave of regret. As I open my eyes I see this new place in San Diego, one large black covered bed and a small wooden nightstand that sits next to a similar closet like in my old room. When I was told we would be moving to San Diego, I was silenced from the decision. Before my younger brother, my mother and I moved to San Diego with my oldest brother and my grandmother, our life in Stockton was going just fine. I just started freshman year with all my friends from my junior high class at Weston Ranch High School. My father would help me with sports and my older brother would suggest the different classes to take at Weston Ranch High School. Things ran smo... ... middle of paper ... ...as at lunch time, the sixth of January 2009, when I surprised my friends that I was back. They were excited and speechless, and I felt as if I were dreaming. This journey taught me so much that I wouldn’t have ever imagined. I grew from this experience mentally and I saw my parents becoming closer and regaining that bond they held with one another. This event taught me to be more appreciative with all the little things I have and made me realize that life isn’t going to go the way you want it to; you have to fight for the path to lead you in the right direction. I was brought closer to both my parents and my brothers. This event started new beginnings for this family, a new start to get things right because when I found out I would be moving to San Diego, I never would have realized the struggles I went through; especially when I was a silent voice in the decision.
It was the fall of 2010 and little did I know that my world was about to change drastically. We had moved back to Kenosha, Wisconsin in 2008 after living in Mexico, and I was starting to enjoy my life in the dairy state. My 6th Grade classes had just started at Bullen Middle School. It was right at this time when my world seemingly got flipped upside down. My parents had a family meeting and informed my siblings and me that we were moving to a small Iowa town called Orange City. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and sadness all mixed together.
Many folks go their whole lives without having to move. For them it is easy; they know the same people, have loads of friends, and never have to move away from their families. As with me, I was in a different situation. I grew up my entire life, all eighteen years of it, in a small town called Yorktown, Virginia. In my attempt to reach out for a better life style, my girlfriend and I decided we were going to move to Shreveport, Louisiana. Through this course of action, I realized that not two places in this country are exactly alike. I struggled with things at first, but I found some comforts of home here as well.
The day I moved away, a lot of things were going through my young mind. As I took my last look at my home, I remembered all the fun times I had with my family and friends through out my life. Now I was moving 800 miles away from all of that with no insight on what lied ahead for me. As my family and I drove away from our Michigan home, I looked out the window wondering what Virginia would be, and what my friends were doing. A lot of things were going through my mind at the time. At the time my main worry was if I would make any friends, and how I would adjust to everything. During the whole drive down, my mother would often let me know that everything would be all right and I would like it. Trying to be strong and hold back my tears, I just shook my head no, wondering why we had to move so far away. Life would be different for me and I knew it would.
Overall, learning about my father's struggles in California exposed me to the reality people today face from other countries. Hearing his story filled my heart with sympathy for my father. It's sad to see him go through PTSD with reoccurring flashbacks of his family abandoning him and going through problems we as a family would have to fight through together. Coming to California is not a easy for anyone, but it's a struggle worth
Throughout my life I have been traveling to and from New York and it has pretty much became a regular part of my life. I have left and came back multiple times over the years, from going on vacations to moving for good, but the most significant time was when I was moving out of New York when I was a kid. My parents had a reason to move down to Philadelphia so they decided that’s what we were going to do. Since I was born here and spent most of my early childhood here, the thought of living somewhere else was strange to me, as it would for almost any kid at that age, and I didn’t really know how life would be like outside of the neighborhood where I’m from. The part of New York where I grew up at was very neighborhoody in the Bronx, everyone
When we arrived, it was a beautiful and sunny day. We checked into our hotel, waiting to move into the house we had rented sight unseen. The first couple of days were spent driving around town getting used to our surroundings. Our first summer here was beautiful, I surprised myself when I actually started enjoying my time in this unfamiliar place. The fall and winter seemed to go on forever, and with that so did the rain. It was challenging, moving from a place where our winters consisted of warm weather and clear skies to a place where the rain seemed to never stop. I was still unemployed, I hadn’t made close friends. I felt lost, I just wanted to make this place feel like home. In the later months I received an offer to work for an apartment complex as a leasing consultant, it seemed everything was falling into
Halfway through kindergarten were you traveling across the country? Well, I was. I was five years old and lived in Oregon. One day my mom said, “Pack your luggage.” A couple months later my mom, dad, sister, brother, and I took a four-day road trip to Wisconsin.
Feeling responsible for situations out of my control was difficult. My grades were awful, it was impossible to focus on anything. I could hardly sleep at night with the amounts of stress I was under. Knowing that my father was an alcoholic with bi-polar disorder opened me up to a new world. I was exposed to so much more than the average kid, especially when he would bring me to the Alcoholic Anonyms meetings. I met so many interesting people threw my father. My entire view of the world and its inhabitants has been altered. Growing up was very difficult but the experiences that I had has shaped the person I am today.
Once we decided on a day, I began to wonder what it was going to be like to go back to a place that I had not been in 7 years. As we approached the building, memories started to flash through my mind, what it was once like to not have a care in the world. From that point on, it was just thought after thought of how things used to be. How the cafeteria seemed like the biggest room ever, the playground was a place of endless amounts of fun, and getting a “pink slip” was the worst punishment in the world. Going back to a place where I spent most of my childhood caused me to reflect on how things had changed since I left there, and what type of person I had become.
Each of us had learned something from that trip. For me, this experience has taught me what gratitude is, the impact a good attitude has, what a servant looks like, and really how the relationships we make with our life are the most important aspect of life. It was the summer after my freshman year of high school. Earlier in the year, my parents had decided that they wanted to go on a mission trip as a family and serve somewhere.
Two days into the summer after sophomore year at Governor Mifflin High School in the little town of Shillington Pennsylvania I would find out the worse news that a sixteen year old could hear. I found out that in four days my family and I would be moving to a suburb outside of Chicago because of my dads recent job change. I was devastated, I ran to my room and cried for about an hour with thoughts of all my friends running through my head. It was like all the memories I had with all my friends were going through my head at the same time. It was beyond doubt one of the biggest challenges of my life. During the last few days I was there I went out with my friends every night having as much fun as I could have, but moving day spoiled all the fun I had. Moving day had come, but I wasn’t ready to go anywhere. I just couldn’t accept leaving all I know behind and moving to
Every new graduated high school student wants to get out of their parents’ house. They want independence, and to feel like they are going somewhere in life. Well, that’s what I thought. Moving out was the hardest thing I had done so far. I had just graduated and was barely making any money but I thought oh well so many people move out this young I’m just going to have to work harder, maybe skip school this semester until I can get on my feet to take classes. I knew all too well that I wouldn’t be able to afford it on my own, so I asked my best friend if she wanted to live with me. Little did we both know that living with another person would be a very different experience then living with our parents. We had plenty of fights over messy rooms, the empty fridge, empty bank accounts, and annoying neighbors.
It was very hard moving to a new town in the summer of 1996. This event meant having to attend a new middle school and re-establish myself in a new environment. Even though I had moved a couple times before, that did not make this time any easier. I still had to make new friends and ground myself all over again. Yet I had no idea the positive impact this move would have on me.
If you ask anyone what home means to them more than likely you’ll get several different opinions. In my case home has never been a specific place it’s always been wherever my mom was! My Mother and I have been moving from place to place ever since I could remember.
It was a maddening rush, that crisp fall morning, but we were finally ready to go. I was supposed to be at State College at 10:00 for the tour, and it was already eight. My parents hurriedly loaded their luggage into the van as I rushed around the house gathering last minute necessities. I dashed downstairs to my room and gathered my coat and my duffel bag, and glanced at my dresser making sure I was leaving nothing behind and all the rush seemed to disappear. I stood there as if in a trance just remembering all the stories behind the objects and clutter accumulated on it. I began to think back to all the good times I have had with my family and friends each moment represented by a different and somewhat odd object.