I don’t remember much from the end of my 8th grade year in Palm Springs, California, but I remember the heat. Vividly. I remember the hot sun beating down our necks. I remember the waves of heat hitting us day after day, week after week, never-ending. The heat was a thick blanket covering everything in sight. The heat is the one thing that I will never forget. Well, that’s an exaggeration. There’s some things that I will never forget. I will never forget my mom telling me the news. I will never forget my friends’ faces when I told them the news. I will never forget my last day of school, my last day in Palm Springs. I never thought that I would even have a “Last Day in Palm Springs” until I was off to college. So when my parents told me that …show more content…
my last day in Palm Springs was just around the corner, I thought it was the end, and in a way it was. Everything that I thought was set in stone… Everything that was supposed to be permanent… It was being demolished right before my eyes. My parents, on the contrary, thought moving to Sacramento was the light at the end of the tunnel. To me, though, moving away meant that the tunnel was just beginning. If there was ever a day I could choose to forget, it would be the day I told my friends I was leaving.
Unfortunately, I chose not to tell them that I was leaving until there was only 2 weeks of school left. I gave myself lots of reasons not to tell them any sooner. Too bad none of them were the truth. One reason was that I was waiting for the right time, like the horrible cliche that I am. Another reason was that I wanted to enjoy time I had left with them. The real reason, though, one I didn’t realize until I after I left was that if I told them I was leaving, it would actually be true. Before, it was all theoretical. Sure, I was moving, but not anytime soon, definitely not in the next few weeks. Telling them I was leaving meant that I actually was leaving. My moving away wasn’t some far-off event happening in the distant future anymore. I was leaving, truly leaving and I was leaving very soon. Finally, the day came when I had no choice but to tell them. It’s not like there was an actual deadline. It just seemed like I was being pressured from all sides. My friends kept asking what was my schedule for next year, my parents would not stop asking my how my friends took the news and it was getting harder and harder to pretend that I was excited to finally go to high school. The lunch period arrived faster than it ever has before, but it seemed to take forever for my friends to get settled in their seats and even longer for the conversation to reach a lull. …show more content…
“I’mmovingtoSacramentoattheendoftheyear”, I confessed, all in one breath. Silence. The quiet only lasted for a few seconds though. They all found their voices at the exact same time. “What?” “Are you kidding me?” “Please tell me this is a joke.” “Wait, what? I didn't hear her.” I repeated myself, “I’m…moving to Sacramento.” I hoped they didn’t notice the crack in my voice. More silence. Except, this one was longer. This time, the silence was deafening. I could actually see them realizing what my announcement truly meant. What if they don't care? What if they just laugh it off?, I thought out of the blue. Looking back on it, I shouldn’t have been worried on if they’ll even care that I’m leaving; I should've been more concerned on what’ll happen if they do care. The moments that followed were the worst of my life. I entered my next class with tear stained cheeks and red eyes that refused to go away. Time doesn’t work in anyone’s favor but it seems to have a personal vendetta against me.
My last day seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. My “Last Day in Palm Springs”. I couldn’t really spend the day doing what I wanted. There was no time for nostalgia or goodbyes. I spent all my time moving the boxes to the moving truck. One at a time, I stripped my childhood home of everything that made it my childhood home. You never realize how few your belongings are until you pack it all up. Finally, we were off. Driving on the highway all day long and through the dat is such a romanticized concept, but the actual reality of it is very different. There I was, stuck with my whole family in a car that was far too small for a family of four. The trip was supposed to take only 8 hours but we ended up driving for around 11 unbearable hours. I was asleep for the last leg of the trip but I was awoken from my uncomfortable slumber by my family’s voices. There was a crick in my neck, my arms had red marks from the seatbelt, and I felt like I was going to collapse if anything even touched me. I forgot all about that, though, when I looked out the window. The sun was just starting to emerge from the horizon, bathing the whole place in a golden glow. The air wafting through my window was a far contrast from the dry heat in Palm Springs. It was a serene environment that made me forget about everything. The next thing I knew, we had arrived at my aunt’s home. There was actual one good thing
that I was looking forward to in West Sacramento. My aunt. It was my first time seeing her in 4 years and I had missed her a lot. We spent about 30 minutes catching up before she insisted that we go to sleep. I didn’t wake up until late that evening. We spent much of the whole night talking to each other and all of the next day touring the city. I hate to admit it, but I actually had fun. I spent the rest of that summer exploring the city and looking forward to high school. Truth be told, it was pretty boring. It seemed like forever until the first day of school. But, it finally arrived.I had woke incredibly early and because of that, I spent around 20 minutes doing nothing. Stupidly of me, I had assumed that we would have no problem driving to school. Unfortunately, there was lots more traffic than we anticipated. By the time I got out of the car, the first bell had just rung. The school day passed incredibly fast. I got lost going to every class and embarrassed myself countless times. Even so, it was incredibly fun. Now whenever I think about the move, I feel a whole different range of emotions. It feels like ti happened years ago, when in reality it’s been just a few months. The move made me realize that you can’t control the future and that sometimes things will happen that you never expected but you just have to roll with the punches, and that you’ll be ok eventually. Truthfully, I’m glad that I moved because without moving, I would’ve never realized that I am a lot stronger than I thought I was.
I wonder if I should I start calling Las Vegas, Nevada home now. I’ve traveled back and forth from California to Las Vegas since I was a child. I can remember at the age of thirteen my family and I would take family weekend trips very often. By the age of seventeen I was forced to move to Vegas for 6 months right before my senior year of high school started. Since it was my last year of high school my parents decided to let me go back to California for the last three months and graduate with my friends. Since I wasn’t eighteen yet, I forced to go back to Las Vegas right the day after graduation.
Old people have always broken my heart. I think this sympathy and love for the elderly stems from the deep affection I had for my great grandparents. They were the center of our tight knit family and always come to mind when I see an elderly person, which then reminds me how much I miss them. This was especially true on my recent trip to Las Vegas.
I stepped of the plane at McCarren Airport with a huge grin on my face. I walked to the baggage claim like a little kid walks into Disneyland, with a look of excitement and a pep in my step. With a suitcase in hand and a foot out the door I could feel the lick of the dry desert air on my skin. I saw my mother waiting for me at passenger pickup with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face and that’s when I knew I was home. Being so far from home for college was taking a toll on me, I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t know anyone at Texas State, and I was being suffocated by the swamp like humidity that enveloped San Marcos.
My eyes opened very early that morning. I looked out of window and saw beautiful weather outside. It was cold wind. The flowers in my garden were smiling at me. All of a sudden my eyes got watery. I remembered that this was my last day in California. I was going to America early the next day morning with my parents and family. The day was Saturday, 20th December. Tears were running down my face. I went downstairs; everybody in the house was sleeping. They had been packing until late night and I didn't want to them wake them up. Therefore, I went back upstairs. I just started thinking about how I was going to leave my house, my friends, my relatives, and my country. The place where I grew up, the people with whom I had grown up, how I was going to leave without them? It was going to be very hard for me to leave something that I had used to. I took out my album and started looking at pictures with my friends and relatives. I looked at the life that I had enjoyed with them. The moments of happiness and sorrow that we had shared together.
Growing up, I was very fortunate to have hard-working, loving, and supporting parents who provided my sister and I with a good life. A good life to me means having a roof over our head, meals everyday, an allowance for our basic needs, and family trips every so often. Last year on November 1, 2014 my mother Sandra and I decided to go to Los Angeles, CA to get some shopping done and have a nice meal at one of our favorite restaurants. Once we arrived to Los Angeles, we witnessed so many homeless people on the streets who are living in their tents and asking people for change at all times. This struck me because often times one does not realize how fortunate they are until they witness others who are struggling on a day-to-day basis begging
In the summer, the creek bubbles and the leaves are in bloom. In the winter that same creek is frozen and everything around it is blank and barren. The memories for me in this part of the world are unforgettable, even though some are happier than others. I can still remember a particular dreadful event on the farm like it was yesterday. I was walking through the house on a hot summer day. I dare not go outside because I knew I'd die of heat exhaustion. In the house alone were my sister and I. My mother had run into town to do some errands, and my dad was out on the farm doing some chores. The phone rang and I casually picked it up.
Holding onto my black duffel bag, I made my way away from the crowd of people waiting to claim their baggage. It was extra busy as people traveled from all parts of the world to vacation in Vegas for Spring Break, myself included. I hobbled over to my mother who was sitting in a quiet, empty row of seats in-between two baggage claim areas. My duffel bag slipped off of my left shoulder, hitting the seat with a soft thud. It was time. Time to finally restore my eyesight. I had been wearing my old glasses with a weak prescription and had my hair in braided pigtails for the duration of the flight from Chicago to Las Vegas. Those four hours on the plane were rough on me. It was necessary to refresh myself. With the intent to put my contacts on, I left my mother checking her e-mails on her phone while I walked to my right towards the women’s restroom. I had spotted it on my way to the baggage claim.
Just yesterday, I retired from being a world traveler. I am getting close to the age of 61 and I can't really hike mountains or go scuba diving anymore so I decided to retire. Back when I was about three years old I moved from my birth state, sunny Orlando Florida, and moved to North Carolina where I lived near the woods and that made me want to explore. I lived there for about four years and a half. I still remember my last day in North Carolina because it was so cold and snowy that i had to wear two jackets and three shirts! When I left North Carolina I moved to Virginia and I stayed there for about two and a half years, and then we moved again to indiana and i stayed there for half of fifth grade and all of sixth grade until we moved to
The car was hot and stuffy when I slipped back into the driver's seat. I found the most depressing music I owned and drove out of Glenwood as the sun started to set. Two more hours until I was home, two more hours of thinking what a terrible day I had gone through, and two more hours of cussing myself for being so naïve. The drive was a long one.
I can almost remember that day like it was yesterday, I awoke like on any other school day. It was a gorgeous May morning, the rays of sun flittered through my miniblinds blinding me as if I hadn’t seen light in days. I sluggishly dragged my limp body out of my warm bed, retiring to the bathroom to perform my normal morning rituals shower, shave, brush my teeth, get dressed, do my hair, and all the other regulars. As I looked at myself while combing my hair, it hit me like a speeding express train, I was about to graduate. I couldn’t help but smile, but at the same time I felt like a part of me was drifting away. A tear came to my eye as I realized what was about to happen to me.
I went to Las Vegas one year to and visited a hotel called Circus Circus. The strange thing about this hotel is that inside this hotel lied an indoor amusement park. The place was filled with scary rides. But the ride I went on one day was extreme. It was called the Inverter and it was like being at the top of a thrill drop but upside down, side to side, and backwards. I got onto the ride and was not scared at all. We went up about 150 feet before things got crazy. At one point, I felt like I was stuck upside down. When I looked down, I felt like I was going to puke. But that was just the start. The whole things swayed side to side and then it flipped a lot. I felt like I was going to puke. My brother was on that ride also, and he was fine.
Have you ever felt like a person reminds you of another? Some people are so important in your life that even though they might not be with you anymore you have them always present in your mind and heart. I realized this on a trip I made to Las Vegas while I was at Los Angeles. People would think the hotels full of fluorescent lights, the spectacular and noisy parties every night, or all the movement of the city would be what I remember most, but they wasn’t.
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.
Today my family and I are moving to a new town and i’m not excited at all.The reason i’m not excited is because i’m not going to have any friends there and i’m going to be the outcast because it's in the middle of the school year.Then it was my last day at my school and i’m sad.I walked the halls remembering the good times I had with my friends.I was walking out of the school with my head down and left.
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.