A Personal Experience with Moving

Experience in Moving
When humans reflect on their lives they often categorize things by their location at the time of the event, grouping their college experience separately from their hometown high school experiences. This association with place causes us to view an unwanted movement as an attack on our personal way of living. I first experienced such an affront when I was in the first grade, my family and I moved to a small town about three hours away from San Angelo. My father wanted to be closer to his aunt and uncle so he seemingly forced me and to tag along for the experience. I didn’t want to move away from my grandparents or my friends, the thought alone would cause me to cry. I had to leave behind all my friends, my family I had known all my life, and even my pets. The towns was named Centerville, and it meant nothing to me, not yet.
Centerville was tiny. There was only one elementary school in town and it housed all grades from kindergarten on to seventh. Most of the people in town lived in the country around the town, and everything seemed so far away. There were so few buildings in town that you could hardly tell where the town ended and the country began. Except, often, the presence of cows would prove that the city limits had long since past… this was the first time I’d seen a cow outside of pictures, up close and personal.
Our new house was a three bedroom trailer surrounded on three sides by the forest. The trees around our new house grew densely and all kinds of animals lived in their shade. The house didn’t have a real driveway just a dirt path from the road to the house. Our mailbox seemed miles away, positioned at the end of the road that connected us to the outside world. My sister and I would us...

... middle of paper ...

... little white mouse with red eyes from being fed to the snake my dad was watching for his friend. Most of my family loves animals.
The first Christmas we had there was terrible for me. I wanted to see my grandparents and uncle who still lived in San Angelo. I wanted to go back home, to the house I had lived in for over four years. I got some cool present but that couldn’t make up for how miserable I was feeling. The most exciting present that day was my dad telling all of us that we were moving back to San Angelo. We hadn’t been living there for long, about three or four months, but it seemed like an eternity without my friends and grandparents. I had never been away from them for long so it was a strange feeling for me. I was so happy after my parents told us we would be moving back home. That is the only time I have lived outside of the city of San Angelo.