As I walked through the gigantic pearl colored doors, I couldn't help but be petrified. I had never gone through anything like this before, therefore, I didn't know what to expect. As I peered inside I saw an abundance of relatives scattered throughout the lobby. Some of them were hugging one another, while others engaged themselves in conversation. As I heard some begin to reminisce, tears formed in my eyes. I quickly blinked them away as my dad's words filled my mind: "You have to be strong." These five simple words seemed to be all I was hearing lately. "How does one be strong at a time like this?," I pondered to myself, especially when all that they can think about is what they should've done? But you see, regrets are just about the last thing on your mind as a child; at least they were for me.
I grew up in a small neighborhood, just a few blocks from my Aunt Marie and Uncle Al.
Uncle (novel)
Cry Uncle!
Boob and Neva Brasfield in 1958For as far back as I could remember my Aunt Marie had been on an oxygen tank. I know I had seen her before she was put on to it, but I was so young that the memories are too vague to remember. She was always such a sweet woman who loved my company. From as young as four until about as old as eleven I remember visiting her everyday. Whether it was for fifteen minutes just to stop in and say hi or a few hours to hang out and talk, I was there.
As my twelfth birthday came and went, my life as I knew it changed drastically. My parents decided to split up, and I knew it was for the best. In doing this I was eventually forced to move from...