When you’re younger, you have this idea of a happily
ever after. Truth is it doesn’t exist. This was something I learned when I was
six years old, well about six and three quarters. My parents told me some of
the worst news ever; they were getting a divorce. As a little girl, my heart
broke because you see so many princess movies, so many romance movies where
there is a beautiful couple that lives happily ever after. I remember the exact
day my parents told me. My mom told me that I said, “So who am I going to live
with?” I was a very smart and humorous child. Laugh to keep from crying they
say. The moment I went back downstairs from hearing the news, I cried my eyes
out but I didn’t let my parents know that. I believe this day has greatly influenced
my life for better and for worse.

After this, living with just my mom became a reality,
it was no more seeing my dad every day I woke up but luckily my parents weren’t
spiteful so I did get to see my Dad every other weekend. When I was the age of
seven roughly two months after my parents separated, I heard some news that
broke my heart; my grandmother on my dad side had passed away. I remember the
pain like it was yesterday. I broke down just like I did when my parents told
me they were getting a divorce. As a child, this was the first experience I had
with death from what I can remember. It hurt so much and I remember just
breaking down at the funeral but I’ve always looked at things from a positive
side, even from a young age. I thought at least she’s not suffering anymore and
at least its bringing the family together. You try to put as many positive
things in to your mind as you can but that doesn’t  change that your family member is gone. I
could no longer talk to my grandmother on the phone and hear her wonderful
laugh. I could no longer get little birthday cards with two dollar bills in it
and I could no longer see her happy face.

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Approximately five months after my dad’s mother passed
away, my mom’s mother did also. This was another one of those unbearable
moments. My grandmother was hilarious and always thought she didn’t know my
name because she always called me Laurali. Oh but she did know my name and she
loved me very much. At seven years old, I went to two funerals, all in the span
of sixth months. These experiences helped me understand death and that the pain
goes away slowly, even though you will always miss your loved one. I think that
since this  rough patch in my life, it
has caused me to be a more loving human because you never know when that person
will leave you. I think this too changed me for the worst because I also became
a person who bottles up their emotions. I don’t like for anyone to see me cry
or take pity on me because I feel like there are many people in the world going
through situations worse than mine. This is one obstacle I’m still working on


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