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Personal narrative on relocating
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Narrative essay about when you relocated
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Emiliano Arellano MOVING TO ILLINOIS “Oh my gosh! We bought a house. I am so excited. We don't have to move anymore. No more packing!” When I was five, my dad had to go to Illinois for his job. My mom, my brothers, and I had to stay back in Texas because we could not afford to move with my dad. “¿Por qué nosotros no vamos con él?” I asked my mom. Mom replied, “Porque no tenemos mucho dinero.” We had to wait five long months and we missed him so much. Finally, my mom decided to go to Illinois and take all of us with her. We had to pack up, say our goodbyes to our cousins, and we had to sell our house. The toughest thing for me was when my mom told me we had to leave our dog behind.
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.
My father was especially devastated. I had to drag him to church, and I did all the housework and had to farm food or else we would starve.
One day, my parents talked to my brothers and me about moving to United States. The idea upset me, and I started to think about my life in Mexico. Everything I knew—my friends, family, and school for the past twenty years—was going to change. My father left first to find a decent job, an apartment. It was a great idea because when we arrived to the United States, we didn’t have problems.
The time was running fast and I had a couple days left to spend some time with my family and friends. At that time I realized of people I will miss, and I wouldn’t able to meet them again. Even for my parents, it was the toughest time leaving all families and friends behind and start a new life in a new place.
Have you ever been in Iowa? Well I have and I was 7 years old the first time I went. You may ask why did you go to Iowa? Well, my family went and visited my mom’s dad’s mom or my great grandma. We also call her Gigi, she is now in her late 80’s. What would you do if you were going to see your 87 year old grandma?
My memory of strolling up and down St. George Street in St. Augustine is more than just a cherished flashback, it’s the start of a new life. Prior to moving to Florida, both of my parents were in the Navy, resulting in our family having to move all around the East Coast frequently. When it was revealed that we would finally settle down in Florida, our first visit would be none other than the oldest city in the United States, St. Augustine. This memory of St. Augustine is so important to me because it piqued my interest in history, it gave me a chance to spend time with my mom, and I was able to witness my first sunset.
I was hoping to move to Alaska or Arizona, but instead we got Arkansas. I wasn’t excited about it but, it was some place different. I moved around the end of July. It was really hard to move and leave my friends, but we still keep in contact every now and then. When I came to Arkansas it was really different. It felt weird to be in the States after seven years. There were new things that I had never seen or even heard of. I was anxious about starting school. Getting used to going to a small school on base in Germany was extremely different from going to public school.
There were people at my house going through my family’s belongings telling me what was worth keeping and what wasn’t. I felt like I couldn’t have my own opinion and if I shared my opinions, I would instantly be looked down on. I was in charge of my own things and had little to no say in anything else that happened. I wasn’t even allowed to go into my mom’s room to collect things that were special to her. I couldn’t even grab items of hers that would have comforted me while I was grieving. You could feel the tension throughout the whole house as we got closer and closer to getting everything packed up. We were all mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. Those emotions stuck around as we were welcomed into our new home. My siblings and I were introduced to new rules at our house and they were nothing like what we were used to. We had to eat as a family which was a new concept to us. We came from a divorced household where my mom was almost never home for dinner because she was working to support her kids. We were expected to get along and communicate with each other. I never felt connected to my legal guardians and that made simple tasks such as communicating, incredibly difficult. People were so happy about the situation and I didn’t understand why. I remember seeing the church bulletin announcing, “The Fruits family has grown by three! Welcome Michael, Sarah, and Rachel to the family”.
I haven’t always lived in Michigan. Before I moved here in in fifth grade, I lived in Tennessee, Florida, and Wisconsin. Because I have lived in many different places, I have experienced and learned many different things in many ways. In Florida, I had a pool and was 15 minutes from the beach, and thus lived a life of carefree swimming and outdoor time. When I moved to Wisconsin there was a stark change in how my days played out. Gone were the times of carefree swimming and shorts year-round, and in came the days of snow-shoveling, learning how to put on a jacket and boots, and waiting for the knock on my door in the morning to tell me that school was cancelled because of snow - this meant I got a full day to spend sledding with my brother.
I accepted returning to school as a challenge and promptly organized my life into what I thought would be a simplified, manageable existence. Like all of you, I restructured my home budget and explained to my husband that life as we knew it was over ... my roles as wife, nurse, employee, friend, student, cook, housekeeper, daughter, daughter-in-law, sister, sister-in-law, aunt, cousin, niece and granddaughter -- all at once -- became impossible. For once in my life, I was glad to NOT be a parent!
My parents had go to Switzerland the week after for the funeral and the family. We had school going on and my parents decided to leave us with friends and go by their own. I stayed at a very good friend of mine, and my sister at one hers. They left and, where going to stay there at least a week. The time I spent there was really hard. Not only because the most helpful people I could have been with where away but I kept on having flashbacks.
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.
I was so sad that I was going to move next WEEK!!! I was so mad that I started to cry. I did not want to leave all my friends, my teachers, my city and leave. My mom told me that I was going to find more friends and even better ones too. I mom told me that I was going to have a room of my own and we were going to live in a better house. My mom also mentioned that my dad was also going to have a good paying job. She told me that my family in United Kingdom, owns a pizza store. So, that kind of cheered me up.
My uncle brought Coney Island instead of instead of Dunkin’ Donuts. Hot dogs for breakfast was weird. We all opened presents, but my parents still were not there. I did not know where they were or when they were coming back. I heard a knock at the door and went to go see who it was.
Teachers were worried, family members i never knew were getting calls, and social workers came in once in awhile to speak with us. My dad got scared so he sent us away to stay with other family members until he could get his act together. My sister and i moved to florida to stay with our cousin Nelda, her husband Terry, and their three kids Arin, Avery, and Adlen. My brother was sent to stay with my our cousin stephen and his husband david. My younger siblings had it harder than i did; they did not understand. We only stayed for like six months then we were taken back to our parents. My experience living there was like staying in a mansion. Except it was only a small house. My brother said he felt like he was staying in an apartment with a bunch of dudes, because stephen and david always allowed other men to live there until they got back on their feet. On christmas we all went back home to mom and dad except they acted like they did not want us back. That had to be one of the hardest things is ever experienced; rejection by someone you love so much. A week