Personal Narrative: My Personal Hero
My Personal Hero
Over the summer, I moved into a new house with my mom and brother. This will be approximately the twelfth time I have moved houses in my lifetime. The twelfth time I have packed up my life and relocated. The twelfth time I have seen my mother prevail through trying times.
My parents divorced when I was four. I can recall the separation well. My mom had to start over with my younger brother and me at her side, a single mother with two very young children. She has always strived to do the best thing by us. Even if that meant she had to sacrifice some royalties herself. One example being that she has always wanted to move away. She has no real reason to stay in this area other than my brother and me. She stays so that we don’t
have to transfer schools and lose our friends.
Things haven’t always been easy for my mom. My mom has had several jobs and countless homes throughout my younger childhood. I remember times when we struggled tremendously. At one point, the three of us lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Daphne. My mom surrendered the room to my brother and me. She slept on the couch. At other times, we lived with my grandparents in Stockton. She had to get up hours before she had to be at work just so she could get there on time.
Eventually, things got more leveled out and we became established in Bay Minette. We had found an apartment that was working well for us. Then my mom re-enlisted in the army to provide for us. She kept it a secret from me for a while because she did not want to upset me. She deployed to Iraq on January 2, 2011. She was gone for eleven months. Even while she was gone she did everything she could to take care of my brother and me. She kept in touch with us through letters and Skype. Serving has left her where she cannot withstand fireworks, loud noises, closed doors, et cetera.
Despite everything, we still had a great childhood. We went Trick-or-Treating in brand new costumes every year. We always had food on the table. Whenever we needed help with homework, she provided it promptly. We were never stunted when it came to our necessities.
My mother has grown to be my best friend and number one supporter. When I talk to her, I know I can do anything because she endured and survived every difficulty in her life. I never saw her break down. I never saw her admit defeat. She has accepted every challenge thus far with a bold perspective and unbelievable grace. It is for these many reasons that she is my hero.
Over the summer, I moved into a new house with my mom and brother. This will be approximately the twelfth time I have moved houses in my lifetime. The twelfth time I have packed up my life and relocated. The twelfth time I have seen my mother prevail through trying times.
My parents divorced when I was four. I can recall the separation well. My mom had to start over with my younger brother and me at her side, a single mother with two very young children. She has always strived to do the best thing by us. Even if that meant she had to sacrifice some royalties herself. One example being that she has always wanted to move away. She has no real reason to stay in this area other than my brother and me. She stays so that we don’t
have to transfer schools and lose our friends.
Things haven’t always been easy for my mom. My mom has had several jobs and countless homes throughout my younger childhood. I remember times when we struggled tremendously. At one point, the three of us lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Daphne. My mom surrendered the room to my brother and me. She slept on the couch. At other times, we lived with my grandparents in Stockton. She had to get up hours before she had to be at work just so she could get there on time.
Eventually, things got more leveled out and we became established in Bay Minette. We had found an apartment that was working well for us. Then my mom re-enlisted in the army to provide for us. She kept it a secret from me for a while because she did not want to upset me. She deployed to Iraq on January 2, 2011. She was gone for eleven months. Even while she was gone she did everything she could to take care of my brother and me. She kept in touch with us through letters and Skype. Serving has left her where she cannot withstand fireworks, loud noises, closed doors, et cetera.
Despite everything, we still had a great childhood. We went Trick-or-Treating in brand new costumes every year. We always had food on the table. Whenever we needed help with homework, she provided it promptly. We were never stunted when it came to our necessities.
My mother has grown to be my best friend and number one supporter. When I talk to her, I know I can do anything because she endured and survived every difficulty in her life. I never saw her break down. I never saw her admit defeat. She has accepted every challenge thus far with a bold perspective and unbelievable grace. It is for these many reasons that she is my hero.