423 February 26, 2016 My father’s side of the family is not very proud of its past from what I can tell. They aren’t proud or they are trying to distance themselves from events that happened in the past that they think are severe enough to erase from history. My family proved to me that past generations directly affect your work ethic, not always in the best of ways. My grandfather worked hard to get away from his father, my grandmother tricked her dad to let her get a job to escape his alcoholism
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When I was 6 years old I went camping for my first time with my mother and little sister. We never camp before. The scale of excitement and joy was higher for me and my sister. My grandmother told us she read books that describe camping experience, and what to look forward to. We could not wait to go camping to see everything nature had to afford. Camping sounded every nice to hear, and we were going to live out doors. We were going to the camping site at Paul M. Dimmick. I didn’t know how much food
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was the fastest cases the doctors claimed they had ever seen. My sisters cried in disbelief and bewilderment at the news. How would we take care of our parents we all had wondered? It would be a heavy responsibility to take over our parents’ house and look after them with such a devastating case of Alzheimer’s. Alone lived my parents in their large estate that was filled with empty memories. What is left of this massive house that my parents now live in? Eight large styled living quarters and countless
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basketball, a flagrant elbow from the forward guarding her impacted her jaw with such force that she was knocked off her feet, and in a cruel twist of fate, she received another blow, cracking her head off the solid floor so that it created a giant bounce, neck seemingly directionless like the ball she was so motivated to grab. A concussion, no doubt, would be the diagnosis, but as my mother and I walked anxiously to interrogate the athletic trainer about her symptoms and possible treatments, we would never
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decided to go back to school to earn my degree. For the first time (in a long time) I decided to put myself first and to care for myself the way I have cared for so many other people over the years. My quest to earn a degree actually started long before 2013. Like most people I grew up in a traditional middle class family with two hard working and wonderful parents. My parents (like most parents) wanted me to do better and accomplish more than they did. Both of my parents came from blue collar working
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Back Time By: Tina Olinger This a true story based on my life and experience’s I have had throughout the years, the good and bad times, the happy and sad. I was born on a cold Friday morn in December 1978 in a small town of Virginia. The first born into a world of unknown and a life like no other, my sister came along in August of 1980 and later we found out we had two step sisters from my dad’s previous marriage. They lived with their grandparents and we hardly got to
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My life of 34 years, have been filled with love, happiness, trusting friendships, and a little disappointment from myself. Growing up I had an imagination incorporated with dreams and the feeling that one day I will make a difference to people. I did not want to be famous, however, I had a groaning from inside that I will be important. My journey has taken me on many trips, befriended many, and accomplished some things I was ok with. In this brief summary of my life I will give great tribute to a
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Composition II – 83 Instructor: Christina Kern Week 3 My Mother Written by Janine Whitfield When anyone sees my mother on the street the first think that comes into mind is that this “older lady” must be extremely proud of her self and must be really tired. My mother has a gaze that is loving and caring but it also carries the weight of the world. Her gaze says “Hello child I am here to help?” Her stride is long and prideful. She walks with her head held high and never looks at the ground as she
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Running head: OVERCOMING MY PSYCHOLOGICAL HANGUPS 1 Recalling my Childhood Experiences Nichole Latiker Ivy Tech Community College Overcoming My Psychological Hang Ups It was 1983. The Midwest Weather was cold, so cold that icicles were everywhere that a little girl could fix her eyes to look. The week before, there had been blizzards and rain. I didn't care about the snow or cold air but this particular week it was only a slight cool breeze
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back at what my mother had to do to make sure my sister and I was well taken care of, I see that she had a hard go. From what I do remember my dad was an alcoholic he also worked out of town so we didn’t get to see as much but on the holidays. My mother worked a full time job. When we were little we had to stay with our grandmother. She (grandmother) was also an alcoholic. I don’t think my mother wanted my sister and me to stay with her but she had no other choice. I believe my mother is a very
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