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Essay: "My Family"

It is said that a family that prays together stays together, but I don't think that is true. I remember when I was little and my mother would make me say prayers before going to bed. I came from a family of eight, five girls and three boys. We're so far apart that we may as well live in different parts of the world. I have memories of all my brothers and sisters during the time I was growing up. My mother even made it a point that I be sent to stay a day or two with my younger sisters. The last children my mother gave birth to were a set of twins. A boy and a girl; they were different. My little brother was almost bald so I thought he got red hair and my little sister was born with a head full of hair. I've always understood life as when you are born from the same womb that makes you blood kin no matter who the father is because if it wasn't for the mother, there wouldn't be any children.

Sometimes life deals situations that cause a family like mine to be split up in order for all of us to get the love that's needed to grow. During those years of growing, we've all become strangers to one another. All the pain and hurt that's been felt over the years from wondering why we're not a family builds a wall. Then when some contact is made resentment starts to form because the feeling is, it was better not to know. I'd say my family is the perfect example of a family structure totally fragmented. I sit here thinking that we never should've been separated. But had that happened, those of us who are doing well might not be doing well. All in all, I still have love for all my brothers and sisters, even when they don't have love for me. I write them even though they don't write back. I'm pretty sure that all of this goes back with the after-effects of a family that is no more. Now we're trees in a forest struggling for sunlight.