What does your family mean to you? To me, it means strength. As I get older, I see my family is more and more solid. I am talking about my parents, my sisters, and my boyfriend of one year and four months. As I was growing up I had an extremely happy childhood. Stable, happy, you know sitting at the dinner table at 6 pm. My dad went to work for fourteen hour days my mom stayed home and raised three daughters (she had her hands full). My dad was diagnosed with RP which is a retinol degeneration at the age of forty and had to retire. So, my mom went out and worked. She was there with my first heartache and my first everything. She has been my biggest inspiration.
When I was seventeen I became pregnant. Who was there? My parents. They stopped from one of the biggest mistakes of my life: marrying the boy who made me pregnant. They knew what he was. He left my life without a backwards glance until my child turned eleven. That was also a big mistake. Which they told me would be. She went to spend her fifteenth year with him and decided to move to be with him his wife and stepdaughter. Well, on her sixteenth birthday she called me and told me he had touched her a few times. Going through the same thing with her six years before with sexual abuse against my ex, I literally dropped everything and brought her home. Justice is still being served. People ask why she didn’t speak up. Well, the words out of her mouth were, “I was scared mom.”
My Family has helped me! They have been my supporter and my greatest joy. But they are still unaware of how I feel and understand. My sisters are my cheerleaders as I am theirs. My father is blind and listens with an open heart. My mother is my heart. My daughters know me best considering I am almost deaf. And my wonderful boyfriend has put a smile on my face everyday for the past one year and four months. I can talk freely with any one of them, and voice my opinion on almost anything.
PREVIOUS PAGE
