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Effects of long distance relationships Essay
Effects of long distance relationships Essay
Effects of long distance relationships Essay
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The first and only time that my family moved, I was three-years-old. My parents bought a new house about four blocks away from our previous house. However, the new house was still being built, so my family moved in with my maternal grandmother – who lives about thirty minutes away – until the construction was completed a year later. Even though I was really young while we lived with my grandmother, some of my favorite childhood memories come from that year. My grandma’s house is a ten minute walk from the beach; a walk we would make at least once every
day.
For many years I would pass by the house and long to stop and look at it. One day I realized that the house was just that, a house. While it served as a physical reminder of my childhood, the actual memories and experiences I had growing up there were what mattered, and they would stay with me forever.
I can’t remember ever living anywhere before living on Lantern Drive. It was a cozy neighborhood and everyone knew each other… which was also a downside when drama arose. The street was a cul-de-sac consisting of about twenty houses, I could tell you who lived in each house. My living arrangements were different than most kids in my town, but I didn’t mind. When you’re young the differences in your life don’t strike you as being a problem, which is quite lovely. I lived with my Step-Grandmother and my Grandfather. I called them “Mawmaw” and “Papa”. I know that you’re supposed to spell it “Pawpaw” but it will never be that to me. The house was small, old, and run down, but it has been
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 finished settling things. I remember most of my earlier childhood by watching some old videos of me playing by the pool and dancing in the living room. It seemed like life could not get any better. However, I was excited and impatient to experience a new lifestyle. I realized that I could start a whole new life, make new friends and learn a new language. Belgium was not as sunny as South Florida but it has much better food and family oriented activities. Geographic mobility can have many positive effects on younger children, such as learning new languages, being more outgoing, and more family oriented; therefore, parents should not be afraid to move around and experience new cultures.
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
"A thing of pure beauty it was, nearly burned my retinas it did." "What was it grandpa?" I asked my eyes wide. My heart was racing with as much excitement as a 6 year old could muster it was my first time hearing the story but not my last. The first burning fire that sparked within my soul but far from the only one. I gazed at my grandpa my hands on his knees and stared him down as if I could pull the answer from his mind using my own I looked him in the eyes with an expression I imagined to be ruthless and intimidating but he simply smiled at me crinkinling the skin around his light brown eyes that matched my own. "Well it was a thing of pure beauty" I stared at him a look of confusion replacing the previous look on my face."But grandpa that’s
Every kid in the family loved going to Aunt Nell’s house. Who would not want to spend the summer with a huge inground pool, Corvette in the garage, central air conditioning in a red brick house in one of the most desirable neighborhoods in Cincinnati? Aunt Nell was a sweet, but stern older lady that never missed Sunday church. Her house will go down in our family’s history as being the best places to spend the hot days of summer.
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much.
I knew that my grandmother’s visit was always short and sweet, for she always had to return to America while I went back to my distressing life at home with my uncle. She would always come down to Fiji for about two weeks, twice a year, but on this particular holiday, life was going to change. My grandmother walks into the hotel room, after visiting the embassy in town, and gives me the biggest hug and kiss while I am sitting on the bed. She says, “Grandma is taking you to America next week. Do you want to come?” She hands me a passport with my picture in it; I immediately flip the passport book open and stare at my picture with a muddled look. I ask her “Is this real? Am I going to America?” She says yes and then we both, immediately, start jumping on the bed
To this day I can still hear all their sobs and sniffols, and remember when everyone came to say there last goodbye to grandpa. At the barrel I helped barre his ashes and give him his last hug from me and my last goodbye. I was so sad for weeks, and one day, we got a phone call. My grandma had gotten me something to remember my grandpa good by as a early christmas present.The object was something to hold his ashis in. I was still sad but it helped me get through with the pane.
The air is really fresh, and the wind is comfortable. Grandma usually opened the window during the daytime; I still remembered that feeling when the sunshine came in house and scatter. I walking among those numerous grand trees and admire colored leaves on the trees and on the ground. I miss that feeling of calmness and stability of the world around. I wish I could return the reality of those feelings once more. Memories in mind and never forget about happiness of staying in my grandmother’s house. Grandparent’s time-honored gift to their grandchildren is their unconditional love, unfettered by schedules, routines or commitments. They reinforced their grandchildren’s sense of security and self-value.
I covered the comforter over my head to try to block out the loud music coming from the living room. I wasn’t tired but mommy told me to stay in my room so sleep seemed like my only option. Brittney tossed and turned in the bunk above me and Michelle snored in the bottom bunk bed on the opposite side of the room. Rayvaun got up and went into the living room. Told us to stay in the room but he gets away with everything because he is the only boy. We are the same age but that doesn’t count for anything. Even though I couldn’t leave the room he left the door open wide enough for me to listen in on what was going on.
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
Life is beautiful but then it can give lemons at times. However, it is how one deals with it that determines one’s personality. My maternal grandmother who my cousins fondly call “ammamma” reached a major milestone in her life that several of us may never reach. She became a centenarian this October. What a wonderful journey! This was a story straight from an Indian movie, except that it was real. It all took place in a little town in Andhra Pradesh in the 1930s, when love marriages were not that prevalent. Smart and beautiful at 16, my grandmother attracted the attention of my grandfather, a young zamindar’s son and a budding telugu poet. They fell in love with each other. Soon, at age 18, my grandmother married him against the wishes of her
Some people are taken from us too early. My aunt is a prime example of this. She was only forty-four when, after a day at the pool, she came down with some flu-like symptoms. Soon it became apparent that this was more than the flu. After being in the hospital two weeks, she went brain dead due to brain swelling. Two days later she was turned off life support, leaving behind her husband and two daughters, four and six, with no answers on what illness killed her. A week later at their episcopal church a beautiful service was held to honor her. Thesis statement.
I am a product of an old farmhouse, a flock of sheep, and miles of exploration. Until I was about four years old, I had only lived in a typical American neighborhood, but my life (A.K.A. my playtime) was changed radically when my family and I moved to my Great Grandparents’ former home. This quaint, little, hand-built farmhouse was truly an experience. There was only one small bathroom, no air conditioning or heating, a bad rodent infestation, and several broken windows. We only lived in this palace for one year, but some of my happiest childhood memories are from this year.