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Stephen King posits that stories are what saved him as a child. He found solace in reading and writing. As members of the human race, we all are exposed to stories. The stories we hear each day on the bus, at lunch, from our teachers, the media, and from ourselves allow us to see our place in society. We live in a world where stories are one of our ways of communicating. I grew up in a household of story tellers. My mother would brush, braid, or design our hair each day and in the process of this act, she would tell us stories. These stories helped to define my childhood, helped my understanding of family and allowed me to see myself in the world. One such story was of when my mother wrecked her bike.
--She was racing her friend to school. In her haste, she flipped her bike and landed hard on the concrete. Her bike came down on top of her. Some men who were on their way to a family member's funeral saw my mom laying on the ground. They pulled over and got out of their black limousine to check on the young girl pinned under her bike. At the same time as the men got out to check on my mom, the school bus passed her. The men drove my mother home so she could get her injuries checked out. Meanwhile, the kids on the bus saw the men put my mother into their "funeral car" and drive her away. Those same kids who were on the bus went to school and told my mother's sister that her sister was dead and put in the "funeral car." My aunt was so upset that she went to the office to call home. It was then that my grandmother revealed that my aunt's sister/my mother was not dead, just hurt.
This story may not seem like much. But as a family, we would often find ourselves laughing at this mistaken information. My mother is so competitive that she ended up scarring her sister. This story lets me see this same nature in myself. Being a little competitive is a good thing, but when it causes others/or the self harm, perhaps reflection is needed.
Your assignment:
Tell a family story. A very full paragraph should be enough. Once you have told the story, explain what this story helps you to understand about yourself.
51 comments:
One of my favorite stories is the one about how my mom and dad met. My dad was a sophomore at Kent living with his best friend, who at the time was dating my moms best friend. My mom and her best friend, seniors in high school at the time, went to visit the boyfriend and were all at the apartment before my dad got home from classes. When he walked in and saw my mom, he claims he "hated her at first sight" because, being in college, they had no money to buy food and, being guys, only bought bread and chips. My mom was eating his chips. But what I think is funny is that they lived half a mile away from each other their whole lives. My dads job was to cut the grass at the funeral home my grandpa owned, and my mom and her friends would drive by laughing at him every time. Each of their first impressions were so wrong, but after spending a lot of time together and getting to know each other, they realized that the first impressions didn't matter at all. Yes, first impressions are important is some cases, but in most, it's surprising to find out how wrong you can be about someone when you don't know who they really are. This story has taught me to never close my mind to things based on my first impressions. Everytime I come across an experience or person and have a negative first impression, I think of my parents. Little did they know.
Riczo 5/6
Over last summer my family and I went to a campground in Italy. Not knowing anyone there and not even speaking the same language as them made it very hard to meet people. But still when I was at the beach I managed to find people who spoke some English, and played a volley ball game with them. So I learned about myself that I am a very social person and can make friends easily, even if I don't speak their language.
One of the stories that will truly stick with me growing up is hearing how my grandpa came here from Croatia. He went through an extremely long, huge process to get here with many stops on the way, but that would take me forever to tell. One of his longest stops was in Italy. He had no money at all. He was only about 15 years old, and he was running on his own with nothing. One of the things he truly wanted was shoes. He found a job at a local store in which the city he was staying in, and he worked for a man at a shoe store in exchange for a simple pair of shoes. After months and months of working for this man, on his last day he went to go get the shoes. The man gave him the box and he ran home excited to show his mom what he had earned. He opened the box, and it was filled with rocks. The work ended up being for nothing. This simple story has taught me to not take things for granite. As spoiled as I am, I should always be grateful for what I have because looking back on their stories and what they have been through doesn't even compare to me.
A story that I find myself laughing and telling about is one I have heard from my mom.
My mom is the youngest of three girls. My aunt Gina is the middle child, and my aunt Julie is the oldest aunt. One time, when all three were children out of anger or maybe pure boredom (the reason isn't remembered by anyone) my aunt Julie, the oldest, went up to my mom and pulled her hair.
My mom started to cry. My aunt Gina went over to my mom and had asked her what happened, and my mom told her. My aunt Gina then went over to my aunt Julie, and punched her in the stomach.
This story always makes me laugh, because it shows even now how much closer my mom is with my aunt Gina than with my aunt Julie.
What I learned from this story is not only that "What goes around comes around" but also, shows the relationship between siblings, which I hadn't learned until I was 13 when my little sister was born.
When I was younger, I lost my grandma to a stroke. I remember that she was sent to the hospital in March 2008. It was a heart attack. She spent almost a full month trying to recover from the heart attack in the hospital. All along, she encountered three more heart attacks and two strokes. My family prayed everyday in hopes that she would get better. While she was in the hospital, we questioned why she had the attacks so suddenly, especially because she worked out and ate healthy foods her entire life. Finally, two weeks before Easter, she was sent home. She was scheduled to visit a doctor every week to ensure nothing would happen again. Every time she went, she returned normal. I remember her talking on the phone with my mom two days before Easter about Easter dinner. The next day, we got a call that she was rushed to the hospital at three in the mourning. She had another stroke. It was bad. On Easter Sunday, at nine in the mourning, she was pronounced dead.
What I learned from the story is that I should embrace my life and live it to the fullest and appreciate my friends and family because I will never know when I will lose that.
A few years ago my family got a call from my moms uncle that my grandpa had a heart attack and was now in the hospital. My mom, step dad, and I flew down to Florida the next morning. My grandpa was in a coma and remained so for over a week. Each day we would sit in his room and wait for him to wake up. When he did wake up 8 days later he told us to go home because he didnt want us to see him like that. We didnt listen and the next day he was moved to hospice. He was only given a week to live because the liver cancer he had previously was spreading to his brain. He ended up living for a month in hospice. I was back home when i got the call from my mom that he had passed away. She told me the last thing they talked about was how proud he was of me. This taught me to always be the best person you can and not have any regrets. Knowing that I made my grandpa proud made me want to work harder to make him proud even though hes not here
This story is one that I clearly remember from when I was little. It was when I learned to ride my bike. I had recently received a present from my grandparents; it was a pink bike. I couldn’t wait to ride it even though I was a little bit nervous. As soon as there was time I was out there with my dad giving it a try. He ran alongside me and would count to three before he would let go. It was the very first time and he released and I pedaled as quick as I could and shortly after I crashed. Of course I was crying instantly because it scared me more than anything. However, my dad convinced me to give it one more try. So, I did and it was a success!
I learned that you can’t give up if you fail once. You have to get back up and try again. I was determined to learn how to ride my bike and that was exactly what I would do until it was mastered. If one doesn’t have determination it is impossible to ever succeed in life. I learned at an early age from a simple example like riding my bike, however; it is a lesson that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
One story that will stick with me for the rest of my life was very recent. Back in April I woke up on an average Thursday morning and got ready to go to school just like I always did. My sister was in the room next to me and I remember asking her to come look at my new outfit for the Taylor Swift concert, which was later that night, before we went downstairs to grab a lunch and then head out the door. My brother is always running out of his room two minutes before we get in the car, racing the clock like every teenage boy. This morning was no different, from what I had seen. While me and my sister were making our lunches a series of loud banging knocks were at our front door. We raced to peek out the window and saw two police officers at our door. I froze in my spot and watched my dad run down the stairs still half asleep to answer the harsh knocks. The cops and my dad raced up the stairs to my brothers room which was still closed. I heard voices but don't remember what they were saying. My sister and I stood there panicked and confused, and she began to cry. My dad came back down the stairs and told us that our brother had taken a bottle of Motrin and told a friend who had then called the police. everything happened so fast it seems like a dream to me now. I remember my dad telling us to go to school anyways because they were going to take him to the hospital and he would let us know what happened. We ran to the car and I drove around the corner to pick up my best friend. She had a look of terror on her face when she came to the car and saw the mascara running down both our faces. We told her everything and then went to school, passing our house that now had three cop cars and an ambulance in our driveway. Looking back I have no idea why we went to school that day because I was not fully there. My thoughts were with my brother. I will never forget the text message that I got from my stepmom that read: "He is alright. The ambulance drivers told me that he told them to tell his sisters he was sorry and that he loves them. He embarrassed more than anything and keeps telling me how much he admires your strength." That is the moment I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to become some sort of crisis counselor or psychologist to help out people like my brother and hopefully prevent them from the same mistake. He is happier than ever now five months later, still being the same pain in the butt as before. Everything happens for a reason, right?
My story is one that happened this summer when me and my dad went on a cross country drive. We drove from Brunswick all the way to Steamboat Springs Colorado. This is roughly a 24 hour drive so as you can imagine we had a lot of time to talk. When we were there we went fly fishing with my uncle who flew out there (lucky guy). Me and my dad also climbed down a mountain. On the way back we stopped at Mount Rushmore, the badlands national park and Chicago to see a cubs game. During this whole experience I got to talk a lot with my dad and realized hes a real person too. Not just my dad and it made me learn to appreciate him more as not only my dad but as a friend.
When I was little me and my best friend, still to this day, didn’t see each other a lot. She lived on the other side of the state and would only hang out when our moms got together. I have a lot of great memories with her and we have been there through thick and thin for one another. One story I remember her mom telling me was that we used to go into a depression like state when we were away from each other for extended periods of time. Granted we were only about 3 years old at the time and didn’t really have very many other friends at the time, there was still a connection there that couldn’t be explained. I would call her Olie, because I couldn’t pronounce Julia and she would call me Riss. These nick names still stick with us today. From what I have been told is that we would always just say each others name randomly and would look for each other through out our houses. Neither of us knew this for the longest time. From this story I’ve learned the importance of friendship. My family isn’t as close as other but thats why you have friends. They are like sisters you never had. Even when we go months without speaking to each other, due to sports and school, we alway are able to pick up right where we left off. With out her I don’t know how I would have been able to get through some moments in my life. I feel that friends can grow a place in your heart right alongside your family members and that they teach you things you could never learn from your family.
When I was in fourth grade my mother always wanted me to be a cheerleader. So at my old school, St. Mary's Berea I joined the CYO cheer leading program. I had so much fun that year, but I was the least experienced and was not very coordinated when coming to dancing and getting the moves down. My mom kept pushing me and pushing to become better, but I did not enjoy the actual cheering part. I love going to football games to watch, have fun, and socialize not cheer and dance around. So when the next school year came around she said, "Caitlin do you want to join cheer again this year or would you like to try volleyball?" I remember to this day telling her volleyball, but I was scared she was be disappointed. When I changed my mind from cheering to volleyball her eyes lit up. My mother played volleyball in high school and she was happy I took the interest at such a young age. Bottom line, this story and experience showed me that I should never be afraid of what other people think and go with what my heart tells me, and not my mom.
My moms best friends name is Jeanette, she has a kid, who now is 14,and his name is Cedric. Cedric has down syndrome. When I first met him I was a little shy because I couldn't really understand what he was saying, but the more and more I talked to him I started to understand him more. Soon after I met them, Jeanette asked me to help her bake a cake because she owns her own cake business. So my mom drove me over and I was talking to Cedric more. We visited them more and more often after that.Then a few years later she had another kid and asked me to babysit quite often, and soon after had another kid, who I also babysit now. Over the years Cedric has become a really great friend, he is the happiest person I know and will always have the ability to cheer me up. Before I met Cedric though, I used the word "Retarded" very frequently, then after I realized how hurtful and offensive it was I stopped immediately. Meeting Cedric has impacted my life in so many ways. He gave me a different look on life and made me realize that if he can always be happy, so can I.
Although it's not a family story, well I guess it is. My best friend is like my sister. But anyway one weekend we went to the mall and as we were walking in there was this small car taking up two parking spaces. We laughed about it on the way into the mall but soon forgot about it. However, as we were leaving we remembered the car and began to joke about it. "That car is probably smashed between another car." My friend Cara said and I started laughing pretending to look under others cars and said, "It's probably under something." As we were joking around we realized the car was still there and that the people who were walking ahead of us were the owners of the car. The car had been pushed forward by another car and the lady who owned the car was swearing and glaring at us as we walked past laughing hysterically.
Although this story may seem a little inconsiderate it taught me something that day. It taught me that there are consequences for everything we do in life. Every stupid mistake we make will be met by a reaction.
When I was younger, my grandma was the most important person in my life. She would read stories to me. sing to me and do anything just to make me smile. She is not longer with me today but I will never forget the song she would always sing to me.'You are my Sunshine'. To this day whenever I hear the song it becomes a bittersweet moment because it reminds me of all of our times together as well and makes me miss her that much more. This song also comes as a reminder to me that she is always watching over me and there to comfort me whenever I am feeling down. I know she always wants me smiling and doing the best I can in every situation so that is why you'll always see a smile on my face and working as hard as I can, just for my grandma.
There's one story and night that will always stick with me. My family and I are close with another family and have been since my mom was 6. Well their grandma who I also called my grandma got sick with breast cancer for the second time and this time it was really bad. It spread all over her body and in her important organs. She is no longer here but I remember one night 4 summers ago really well with her. We were at a family party sitting under the stars just talking and she was telling me all about her friendship with my grandma for the past 40 something years and how much she enjoyed their friendship. She also talked about funny memories about her kids and my grandmas kids growing up with each other. One thing that surprised me and stuck with me was her positivity because even though she was dying she was happy and only focused on the postives and good things in life. This story taught me to always see the postives and not the negatives and that life is too short to be anything but happy.
One story i learned from my parents is when they were in their first couple years of dating that my dad was in a competitive drum line team and would travel all across the country. He and my mom still made it work out somehow and i cant imagine what it would be like to not see someone special like that for weeks at a time and obviously back then they didn't have cell phones we do so it was much harder to keep in contact. I envy their dedication and i hope i can go through something that would me that strong and willing. they have been married for 25 years now and it means a great deal to me.
Every year since I was six, four generations of my family would spend Thanksgiving in Virginia at my Nana's home. My family would come from five or six different states making Thanksgiving they only time all year we saw each other. After three years of my family spending Thanksgiving together we decide to play a giant game of Monopoly. Every one of my family members played in this game for the prize of $40. After about four hours everyone in my family had started cheating and arguing constantly until my aunt finally won ending the game. This did not stop the arguing which continued on until Thanksgiving day. On that day everyone sat down for lunch and everything suddenly returned to the way it was before the game. This was because nothing mattered but being together as a family. This story helped me understand that even though achieving is great family is more important.
I was just told this story the other day about myself. As i was on my way home from dinner with my parents we drove through a neighborhood connected to mine. My dad started to laugh and explained how he always sees this little boy with his plastic lawn mower cutting the lawn alongside his father. My dad then told me of how i used to the same thing with him. When I was really young my dad was moving dirt into the backyard to make foundation for our soon to be pool. He told me how I would come out with my plastic wheelbarrow and help alongside him with a real wheelbarrow. This story made me realize how my father has shaped me growing up, and i couldn't be more thankful. He shaped me to be a hardworking and all around good individual.
One story myfather has told me was one when he was a teenager he got a motorcycle. one day he was driving it and was not paying attention to the road and flipped his bike.He spent two days in the hospital,all because of him not doing what he was supposed to be doing. i learned that everytime that I dont pay attention and don't do what I am supposed to do things will not turn out very good for me.
About 4 years ago my mom developed a latex allergy. At first it wasn't that bad but it started to get worse as years went on. About 2 years ago me and my mom were at a cheer competition in Akron. They had balloons and my mom tried to stay away but they were every where. She started coughing, so she took her Benadryl and her inhaler, drank some water and waited for it to kick in. The amount of balloons and latex that was in the air was way too much for my mom to handle. She was coughing more and more and she couldn't breathe. She had to take her epi pen and stab it into her thigh. She stuck it in her leg, pulled it back out and stuck it in again because it freaked her out. My friends mom was there and called 911. My mom got rushed to the hospital in an ambulance and I went with her. I was freaking out because my mom has never had a reaction this bad. I thought I was going to lose my mom. We got to the hospital and I called my dad and told him what happened. She had to stay over night and was able to go home the next day. She didn't feel good for about a week after she came home, but I was just happy she was home and alive. It freaks me out that my mom has a severe latex allergy and at any point in time she could run into latex and go into anafalaxic shock. My mom has a doctors mask that she wears whenever there is latex around. People stare at her and talk about her because she looks funny and some may think she has a contagious disease. I see it as a blessing. I love my mom so much that I would do anything and everything to save her. I don't care if she looks "ridiculous" or not. If a mask is going to save her than I don't care what she looks like. My mom is my best friend. I do and will do anything for her. This has taught me that anything can happen at anytime, for the worse or for the better, but as long as you have people that love and care for you than you can over come anything. Don't take anything for granted and don't expect to wake up the next day. Live each day as it was your last. Believe in God, because he is a miracle worker and he can make things happen. I am very blessed that I have my mom by my side after all that she has gone through.
-maddie norton, 1 period
One story my dad told me was about how him and his brother would always be playing sports growing up in Canada. My family has always been very competitive. My dad and uncle would play hockey in the garage with their friends and would always break the glass windows in the garage. My uncle and dad would just blame it on the kids from the neighborhood. My grandparents would come home from work and be extremely mad at them. My dad and uncle would just act completely innocent and continue to play the next day. This made me realize and learn how competitive my family really is and how we all love sports and would do anything to continue to play them.
My dad told me a story about when he was 7 years old him and my grandma were grocery shopping and some guy tried to take my grandma's purse from her. My grandma was fighting the guy off of her purse while my dad was kicking the guys legs since he was just a little kid. Some ambulance guys showed up and the guy ran away but ended up not getting her purse. This story shows me that my dad was very protective over his mom even at a young age just like I am with my mom. I wouldn't let anything happen to her.
A story of my family that I cherish much is the story about how my parents met. First of all it turns out my mom and dad growing up have been to the same place at the same time multiple times, they just never met yet. Then one day my dad was to deliver a package to my moms grandma and when he did my mom was there. After leaving my great grandmother told my mom that she needs to find a man like that. A couple months go by when one day my fathers friend told him about a "hot red head" at a church he was at and he should go see her, little did they know they both remembered each other and thus they began to date. Five years go by and they got married and lived happily ever after. I cherish this because it makes me wonder if I have ever met my future wife. I believe I probably haven't but hey you never know.
My cousin, Timmy was born with no arms and is in a electronic wheelchair. His hands start at his shoulders. Timmy teaches handicapped adults art. Timmy is such an inspiration to me because although he has a physical handicap, this has never held him back on his dreams. He is such an inspiration because of all that he accomplishes, although he has such an incredible set back. Timmy teaches me to never take anything for granted and to cherish all that I have. He has inspired me to go to college to be a special education teacher. I am proud that Timmy is my cousin and is part of my family.
When I was younger my grandpa would come over and visit us once a week. My sister and I would sit in the living room with him and he would read us the encyclopedia and tell us stories about it. (Now that I'm actually typing that, I'm just now realizing how weird it sounds..) My sister and I looked forward to these visits all week. He always taught us the most random things. I knew the alphabet in sign language, how to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit and the year Sputnik 1 went into orbit all before the age of 8. My grandpa was the one who really inspired my love of learning. He had a stroke 2 years ago and is no longer able to tell us these stories and I think this caused me to want to be a teacher. So I could inspire and teach others like my grandfather taught me.
My Grandpa loves to tell stories (usually the same few over and over). One of them is from when he was a teenager. My great grandfather, my grandfather's father, was sitting in a chair on the porch. This man, although he passed long before I was born, is known to me as a hot-headed, alcoholic, czech immigrant. My grandpa and a buddy of his wanted to go out so they decided to take my great grandfather's car out (with reluctant permission). My grandpa got in the car, shifted it into reverse, slammed down on the gas peddle, and started down the driveway... with the front wall of the garage. My grandpa says that he must have clipped some part of the garage door! My grandpa got out of the car and looked at the mess he made. Then he looked at his father on the porch, expecting some sort of explosion of anger, but he was still just sitting there, staring at my grandpa. My grandpa says that they just stared at each other for a good minute and then my great grandfather got up, took a swig of his beer, and then walked into the house without a word.
I mostly learn about my grandpa's great sense of humor from his stories. I also can see patterns in my dad, grandpa, and great grandpa that help me to learn about myself.
one story my mom told me about when she was a teen is still funny to this day every time it is brought up to her parents/my grandparents. When she was new to driving, she would smoke in her car. while in the car on her way to school, her engine caught on fire and had to be towed. She called her mom and told her what had happened and my grandparents paid for a brand new car. When they discovered a while later that my mom had started smoking, they believe it was a cigarette that had fallen on the floor that caused the fire. To this day they still laugh at the story and my mom defends herself that it really was the engine, when we all believe it was her cigarette. half of the cars she had owned as a teen had caught on fire and all have been cigarette related! These stories make me not want to be around smokers, especially in my car so in case of an accident or fire, I am not blamed for smoking!
When I was a freshman, my grandfather had died. He was a grumpy old man to most of the family, but he acted differently towards me. Perhaps it was we shared common interests, or that we shared the same views on certain, or even because I seemed to know him more than anyone else did. Whatever it was, I seemed to be his favorite grandchild. A week before he died, I went to visit him with my family. He was going crazy at the time, to the point where he didn’t know the difference between drinking water and going to the bathroom. I felt terrible and took care of him the best I could while everyone left to get food for him. At the wake, all the memories of him flooded my head. And at the first time at any funeral, I cried.
This point in my life helped me remember how important family was to me, and that you never really know what you have until it’s gone.
My story is how my parents have continued to push me to do my best and how they have always been there for me. I have not been the best in my first couple years of high school I have my a lot of mistakes and I'm just now starting to finally learn off of them and there still pushing me to do better because I have a lot more room for improvement. My parents mean the absolute world to me for sticking throughy side through everything. This has helped me learn about myself that I need to pick up the pace and start doing a lot better and make not only myself but my parents more happy.
A story that comes to mind is one from my mother’s childhood. The year was 1972 and she was nine years old growing up in a small town in western Pennsylvania. After a week of torrential rain the dam at my grandfather’s camp house was flooded past the tree line. My family is filled with avid water skiers including my mom, the overflowing dam was not going to stop her from doing one of her favorite things. With that being said my grandpa started the boat and my mom was pulled up out of the water, weaving in and out of the trees that protruded through the high waters. This overflow of water would later be named the Flood of ’72, my mother’s story would headline an abundance of other tales from that very flood.
This story shows that my family does let anything rain on our parade. We always are looking at the Brightside of everything.
At the end of last school year I visited out in Arizona to check out colleges for when I'm graduated. My uncle also lives out there so we stayed with him for the trip. Going out there I had the mindset of wanting to get as far away from Ohio as I could. I loved the weather, I loved the campus, everything was so perfect. Then one night, my uncle and I were sitting outside and he brought up why I chose Arizona as a possible school. He got serious and laid it flat out. What was I gonna do if I ran out of money? Had an emergency? Got homesick? Not seeing all my family and friends. Lists of all things that hadn't gone through my mind. He told me that I could make it by myself, but it wouldn't be the easiest. He forced me to face reality. Sure, I got the same stories from my mom and dad, but hearing it from him, it just came across different. Him, being a "successful" person, it hit me, and sank in. I never really thought about what it would be like. Moving out there all by myself would be a challenge I've never faced before.
Having this talk with him impacted me in a major way. I was able to see that change isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it would be a challenge. There would be many obstacles that I'd come in contact with. It questioned me on whether or not I'd be able to deal with them. It caused me to realize that maybe I should suck it up and stay in Ohio for a few more years before I make such a drastic change.
One of the stories that comes to mind for me is the passing of my grandpa. My mom, grandpa, sister, and I were very close. We spent every Friday night through my middle school years attending football games. My grandpa was my number one fan when it came to my sports. Ny grandpa was diagnosed with liver cancer my 6th grade year. The doctors told him he had 8 months to live,but luckily we had him for three years. Through his chemo we still attened every football game and made sure he was on the sideline for my games. He never let the news and sickness get to his head. He took what life through at him and was determined to prove it wrong. My grandpa held on way longer then expected. But could put up a fight for forever, my grandpa unfortnately passed away in October of my freshman year.
Through watching my grandpa's illness I have learned this much, you have to make the best of what you got. The last three years for my grandoa could have been miserable. But he made the most of it. I hope that I were to ever be in a situation like that I would half the strength he had.
This weekend I was a part of my uncles wedding. When he asked me I really didn't want to do it but he is family so I did it for him. People may ask why I didn't want to be part of the wedding, this Is why, I am very camera shy and I know there is always a ton of pictures of the grooms men and the rest of the party, I also knew I would have to talk to a lot of people I did not know and I am very socially awkward with people I don't know, so I didn't want to make a fool of myself. During the wedding I was as nervous as ever, I didn't want to make a mistake ( luckily I didn't ). But after the wedding I realized It was not as bad as I made it out to be in my head. And if I say so my self I did a pretty good job.
This shows that I would do anything for a close friend or family.
A story that stuck with me was about my grandpa. I was too young to remember his doing this but whenever my siblings or cousins would go over my grandparents house he would "lose" his wallet under his favorite chair. He would tell the kids of my family to find his wallet for him and that they could keep the money that would fall out. The wallet would always be under his favorite chair and a bunch of coins and change would be under the chair for the kids. He would always laugh when they found the wallet and hand them a bag to put their new money in. This story has taught me how much of a caring man my grandpa was. He always would make the kids smile. I learned that the littlest things can make the biggest memories that can live on forever.
Something that has stuck with me is how my parents have always pushed me to do my best. My mom and dad have always come to every football, baseball, and rugby game since I was little. My dad always said how his father never did this to him, which is why he always wanted to be there for me. Its always a good feeling knowing you have people to support you no matter what.That will always be important to me and I will continue to do so for my kids.
One of the stories my mom would tell me is about all the things she had to deal with living with 3 brothers. She would tell me about all the trouble they would get into and all the times they would fight and argue. This relates to me because I have three sisters that we do the same thing constantly and she said its scary how much a like the way me and my sisters do the same thing. Having said this she helps me deal with putting up with three sisters the same way she had to deal with her brothers so we are able to share stories and how it relates
When my dad was growing up he had three brothers and they moved a lot around ohio and even though they didn't stay at a school a long time to make a lot of friends they still had each other. To this day even though they all live in different cities and are busy with their own families they still all hangout together and go to their parents house to eat dinner with each other.
This story helps me understand that family is one of the most important things in your life and they will always be there for you and it helps me appreciate my family more.
One story that I love hearing is about when my grandparents came to America from Ukraine. My grandmother and grandfather were both born in Ukraine, but nowhere near each other. My grandmother was a city girl living in a town in what I believe is now part of Russia, and my grandfather was a country boy living somewhere in Ukraine. They were both born in the early 1920s, and experienced hardship at a young age. In the 1930s Ukraine had suffered a famine or also known as the Ukrainian genocide, brought on by Joseph Stalin. When the famine had ended, things in Europe had gotten increasingly worse. By the time my grandparents were my age; they had managed to survive a famine, and had begun witnessing the early stages of WWII. My grandfather fought in WWII, and became a POW. My grandmother had to leave home to work in a factory, and eventually became a refugee camp nurse. After the war my grandmother had to serve as a mother figure towards her niece, because both of my grandmother’s brothers who served in the war had died in battle. My grandparents eventually met in a refugee camp and got married in a refugee camp church. By 1950, they were living in Germany, when they had my uncle. By 1951, they had finally arrived at Ellis Island, where they then traveled to Cleveland. When they came to America they had very little, and worked for everything. I’m so proud to be able to say all of the things my grandparents have done during their life time. Although I was never able to get to know my grandfather, I know all the things he has done for his family and all the sacrifices he and my grandmother made to make their family happy. When life gets rough, it’s important to stay positive, and not give up. If my grandmother had never stolen potatoes from a farm during the famine, or my grandfather gave up during the war, I wouldn’t be here today. The things they had gone through made them stronger people. They never let the language barrier get in the way when they first came to America, and they worked for everything they had. Because of my grandparents I have learned that having to work for everything, and making sacrifices will not only make someone a stronger person, but it all pays off in the end. My grandparents came to America searching for happiness, and not only found it, but have made it last from generation to generation.
My grandma got in a terrible motorcycle accident with a truck when I was about six years old. She broke both of her legs and arms and hit her head hard when she fell off her motorcycle. My mom and I went to go see her a few days after it happened and I remember my mom being scared that she wouldn't remember much of anything and maybe even forgot who we were. I walked into the hospital room, and sat down next to my grandma. She didn't say much at first, but then she realized who I was. I had told her before the accident about a deer I saw in my backyard. Then after a while of small talk, she asked if I saw any more deer while she was in the hospital and she started laughing. This experience taught me that things may not be as bad as they seem and to always stay positive in a rough situation.
One story that I remember very well is the first death of a family member. My grandpa on my dad’s side of the family died on May 18, 2012. It was the quite an experience for me because I had never been involved within the services of a funeral before, let alone been to one of a family member. It was one of the saddest things I have been a part of but am glad that I was able to participate in carrying his casket because those are things that I will remember for forever. I was also the last person to see him before they locked the casket, which I was able to notice the care that went into closing it.
This impacted me because I was training for a half marathon at the time before his death, and one of the last times I saw him, the only words that I can remember from being at that hospital that day are “Good luck”. I thank him for all the support he gave me in whatever I did, and I plan to support him by wearing a customized shirt in his honor on May 18, 2014, the 2-year anniversary of his death, and my first full marathon.
Cody Taylor period 3
My story isn't so much a family story but I wanted to share it because it's was such a self-discovering experience. Over the past summer I took a job babysitting for family friends. I spent every weekday watching their only child Mitch, 7:00 AM to 5:00 PM. The first thing I realized was that kids are so "darn" needy. Being almost 18 it had been awhile since I wasn't able to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Keep in mind, after asking for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and me gladly making one, Mitch informed me that he didn't actually want jelly on it and that if he eats the crust he will die! There are plenty more examples of his ludicrous requests but that is not the point. Doing all these things for Mitch, having to support him and get everything for him caused me to be self sufficient more at my house. Instead of being lazy and asking my mom to get me something or reminding my brother to get his chores done, I got things myself, and did his chores anyway. I became more self reliant just out of habit, I did it every day 7 to 5 so I did it when I was at home too. That wasn't the biggest thing I took from the experience though. I grew up with my younger brother Dylan my entire life, I was never playing by myself as a child. As I spent time with Mitch I'd ask him if he ever played this or that game and I was shocked by him telling me he never had. I told him that me and my brother did this all the time when we were kids, and it made me realize he never had anyone to do all those things me and my brother did together. As I taught Mitch things like how to build forts, make peanut butter sandwiches, and tell really corny jokes, he taught me life lessons like to be more self reliant and to never ever ever take my brother Dylan for granted. I never expected something like a summer job babysitting to be so impacting to my everyday life.
One of my dad's favorite stories to tell is about the time that my brother and I were fighting (as we always did, we never got along back then) worse than usual, and he decided he'd had enough. He forced us outside into the snow and cold, tied our wrists together with the rope of his robe (not tightly, don't worry about calling CPS) and made us skip around the block holding hands while he drove around with us blasting Puff the Magic Dragon. He warned us that if we went faster than him (and he went Slooooooooooooow)he'd make us do it again, only slower, and with Puff playing LOUDER. Naturally, we went at his speed and put up with it, but to this date I can't remember a more effective, immediate and lasting punishment than that. This taught me a few things about myself:
A) People (my little bro and I) can change with time
B) My memory likes to pick out weird things to remember about my dad, which probably aren't fit to eulogize him, and
C) I bear the genetic code of a sick genius.
When my sister was in high school she had to learn how to do a back handspring for dance. While learning, she shattered her elbow and dislocated it twice. She had to get surgery not long after and get two pins and two screws in her elbow. The doctor did not know if she was going to be able to dance or even use her arm anymore. But after going through surgery and physical therapy, just a few months after she was using her arm and back at dance. This taught me to always be thankful for what I have and my abilities. Anything can change in the blink of an eye and you never know when your whole life could turn around. In my sister's case, she ended up being okay and continuing with how things always were, but unfortunately this isn't always the case in some situations. It taught me to be even more aware of what could happen.
My favorite stories were always the ones about when my mom and dad were my age. Funny things always happened to them, and I especially liked the stories about my dad's job. When he was about my age he worked at Wendys and when he closed he would have boxing matches and drink with his boss, and I thought those stories were so funny and it makes me realize how different things are and how things have changed now.
Cali Brandt 3
One of my favorite stories would have to be when my mom and dad first started dating. They went to different schools during college and they didn’t really see each other as much as they wanted to but somehow they made things work. They said they would leave classes early and skip classes just to be with each other. They did whatever they could and I really admire that and I want to be just like that with my girlfriend. They made me realize that you need to do whatever you can to do what you want. Do your best and put one hundred percent into everything.
One of my favorite stories would have to be when my mom and dad first started dating. They went to different schools during college and they didn’t really see each other as much as they wanted to but somehow they made things work. They said they would leave classes early and skip classes just to be with each other. They did whatever they could and I really admire that and I want to be just like that with my girlfriend. They made me realize that you need to do whatever you can to do what you want. Do your best and put one hundred percent into everything.
I dont really have any big stories but something that taught me something about my self was my grandmother. my grandmother has alztimers and over the years it has progressively gotten worse. i went to go visit her the one day and she kinda knew who i was and the next time i saw her she didnt even know my name. as we continued to have a conversation she would ask me the same 5 questions over and over again, like how was school, what grade are you in and what college do you want to go to? and we would just sit there for hours and talk about the same stuff over and over again. this taught me to never take family or anyone close to you for granite. i used to take the time i spend with my grandma for granite and now i wish i havent. another thing this has taught me was to be patient and to understand in my self that you cant help everyone even your loved ones. because there is nothing i can do i just have to learn to accept thats how she is and be thankful for the time i have left with her.
My grandma (on my mom's side) is such a crazy lady. she is a horrible driver, she's loud, she has a song for everything, and she's extremely funny. According to my mom, she wasn't always this way though. When my mom and my uncle lived in my grandparent's house, they was kind of strict and very controlled. When the kids moved out and started lives of their own, they became laid back and really started enjoying life and everything about it. They even go to Florida every winter to work with a group of missionaries. This is something that is needs to happen within me at a young age. I know that the best thing to do is enjoy the life I'm living now, because no one knows how long they have left. I've experienced that first hand, because I have had the loss of young people in my life and I don't want to take the time I have now for granted. I want to be like my grandparents, and go out into the world and make a difference and make my mark on the world.
This is a story my dad has told many times to the point where I know it almost perilously. It was back in the days he played baseball during high school. He was playing near Cleveland next to the highway leading to the city. He was at bat and he ended up hitting a home run, it was the sweet spot cause he hit the ball over the highway. It ended up being on the local paper the whole story. This seems like an odd story but the moral is he worked hard practicing to get better and look at what he could do. If you practice and train enough you can do anything you can set your mind to.
My grandparents are from Italy. My grandmother came over to America when she as nine years old. They were very poor and barely spoke English. My grandmother taught her self English so she could comprehend school. After school, she'd come home in the evening to help cook and clean in the tiny house her family lived in. She would help her dad with his work and to communicate in English once she got better at it. After graduating from high school. she married my grandfather. He was apart of our family business, Fabrizi Trucking and Paving. He made a decent amount of money, and after four kids, they built their dream house. My grandmother always reminds me of where she came from and how she got where she is today when I start to complain about how hard I think something in my life is. She reminds me that I already speak English and have a lot going for myself. She also reminds me that hard work pays off in the end. She struggled the first ten years of her life in America, and even after that she still struggled. But she never gave up and neither will I.
My favorite family story would probably be the story of our family birthday song. Most families just sing, "Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear "whoever," happy birthday to you." My family's birthday song is a bit longer than that. In fact, we have 5 lines to our birthday song! My family developed the song lines from finding them in poem books when reading them to the kids! So, the song is really creative and personal. This is a perfect example of how I am. Im not afraid to be myself or be a little quirky just like our family song.
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