Peter Rojas: Memoir Rays

Peter Rojas Dr Wall English 1: F block 5/20/24.

Peter Rojas: Memoir Rays of sunlight slip out of a crack in my blinds, I hear birds chirping from somewhere outside my room. It's a Sunday evening, I’m sitting at my desk, trying to write an essay. I’m about halfway through when I hear shouts coming from upstairs, first the high pitched, animated yell of my younger brother, then the low, flat voice of father and finally the screams of mother. They’re fighting again, he said. Every time I try to concentrate, try to get something done, they start shouting and my efforts are destroyed. I put on my headphones and turn the volume as loud as possible, but I can’t escape the noise. It's like a war of sound, I’m caught in the crossfire. It happens
I was hoping I could get a better understanding of why they were happening and what I could do to reduce the number of fights or even stop them happening entirely. Instead, I learned something a lot more disheartening. My dad told me about his relationship with his brother. The one he doesn't talk to. He talked about how his brother was a troublemaker, just like my brother. About how his brother and parents would fight all the time. How his behavior escalated. At some point something happened between them and they stopped talking. I love my brother, probably more than anyone else in the world. The thought of not talking to him for years of my adult life is terrifying. My dad wouldn’t tell me much about his brother, and can’t imagine asking my uncle or my grandparents. I do know a lot about my brother though, he’s an incredible person in so many ways. Someone who I can’t imagine not talking to for years. When I talked to my dad that day, I learned something about harm and healing. It can take time and, sometimes, people never heal. My dad isn’t ready to tell me about what happened between him and his brother, and he’s certainly not ready to have a conversation about it with my