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Home Sweet Home
Everyone is put in this world without a choice. We donít have a choice of parents. We donít have a choice of what we are going to look like. We also canít choose the location we want to grow up in. We donít have any choice at all when we are born. People have to just take what they get and try to live with what they have. I personally didnít like the place I was raised but did I have any choice? I had to adapt to the environment in which I was raised. My first house I ever lived in wasnít a good one. Experiences I had living there will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Ever since I could remember my parents have been separated. I was about the age of two when my mother filed divorce from my father. Usually when the parents divorce the wife usually gets the house. This wasnít the case in this situation. My father had refused to give up the house. My father was still upset about the divorce. He felt that since she left him, she had to suffer the consequences. Thatís just the type of person my father is. Heís not a mean person; at times heíll be hard headed. So my mother packed her bags and was on her way. She ended up moving to an apartment in Campbell where she still resides. My father,on the other hand, kept the house that the two first moved into. The house my father lived in was in San Jose. This house was in a bad part of town. East Side San Jose is known for its run down housing. So living off the intersection of

McLaughlin and Tully, we lived in the heart of East Side San Jose.

My mother sympathized for her two children who now have to grow up with separated parents. Usually when a couple divorce, legally the mother can take full custody of the kids. My mother felt that my sister (Kelly) and I should still live with my father on a regular basis. She decided to give part time custody to my father. One week I would be at my motherís house, the other with my fatherís. Most of my memories as a youth though, are of the memories I had of my fatherís place. We lived in a run down place in an ugly part of town. The paint on the house was faded brown with plenty of paint chipped off. The grass was dead with weeds everywhere. The sidewalk in the front had a crack so high you could do a three foot jump off it with a bicycle. And I couldnít forget the insides. The house had three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I remember waiting five minutes before every shower just to get the water warm. The carpets were brown and ugly with stains in them. Most families by the 1980ís had a color television. The year was 1985 and we had a black and white television that only received ten different stations. My father believed that we should do something constructive with our lives instead of sitting in front of the ďboob tube.Ē My constructive days were outside playing on our old jungle gym. I remember sliding down the slide and stopping half way because it was too rusted. Every time I swung on the swing...
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home sweet home. EssayMania.com. Retrieved on 12 Oct, 2010 from