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A Series of Memories Carissa Phelan 3A My day started out as usual, usual for a morning at the airport anyway. It was 3am and the fog was just setting in, a long drive to the Portland airport. Along the way talking to my mom about how much fun California will be and assuring her I would take plenty of pictures (which was not going to be the case). I had begun to reminisce of my life and my childhood. The last time I saw my father was about two years before. He wasn’t a deadbeat dad type at all he worked hard for barely any money and when there was enough money he would spend it all to send me there, and would take care of me as if I had never left. He and my mother split when I was kid and I live with my mother. My parents always reassure me that they both love me equally and no matter if my father lives far away, he cares just as much as my present mother. Arriving at the airport we parked the furthest place possible from the terminal and I of course had two very heavy bags of clothing and shoes. We were already late and not making any progress. “My mother is always late” I thought as I read the trillion signs that had said “Take your parking ticket with you!” We finally arrived at the correct terminal and at about 20 minutes from take off, we get to the line where we would usually quickly stream to the front so the service desk can check our bags but not this time. The line was about the size of a roller coaster, “you’ve got to be kidding me!” my mother said at the top of her lungs. I had at that point pretended I didn’t know her and I was just a single passenger standing alone next to a crazy woman. My skin color helped this situation, but eventually I decided to be her daughter again and we mutually decided to just take the next flight instead of trying to catch the near impossible one. I landed in California and I could immediately feel the climate change. The humidity had collected droplets of sweat on my forehead. I had just turn 17 the week before, summer birthdays by the way suck. So embracing my new age I walk down to the crowded passenger lounge trying to make out my father in the hundreds of people standing before me. And sure enough he was there standing looking for me too I looked at him and I saw myself I had never realized how much I looked like him before. We set off into L.A and I was already settled in just by being back. Rolling down the streets of Inglewood interesting people roamed, it reminded me of downtown Portland only less clothing and more color. We arrive to my dad’s house and I reunite with my brother and sister. My brother was 22 and my sister seven, so I was the middle child. Quality time with my family is the best I could ever ask for I don’t get much of a bonding time with my family members. During this trip I hadn’t known it but id be going on my very first trip to Disney land, this was a big deal for me I had before felt so deprived of the experience. A few days before I had to go home we had gone to the beach as well, I had a surfing competition with my brother that day and he left with a huge ego and I left with a sprained wrist and bruised ankle. One of the nights I was there I got to spend a night with just my bro and me and I went to a party with him but because I was there we had to be back by midnight. We ended up at his friend’s house and we were both greeted and introduced as brother and sister. So he had told his friends about me that really made me feel like a big part of his life. The next day was the best so far we had arrived at Disney land and my inner child was released like air from a balloon. I had finally been to there, the place where dreams come true. I knew I would get made fun of by friends when I got back and I told them but I didn’t care. It didn’t feel like I was 17 when I was there, it had felt like I was seven again. This I felt was a right of passage no matter how crazy it sounds. Arriving at the airport again I had a whole different set of emotions I was happy I got to see my dad, I was sad because I was leaving my new home, excited to see my mom again I had missed her more than ever, and mad that my parents hadn’t stayed together so that I could have both and not just one. Sometimes two is better than one, but everything happens for a reason and I know that it was best for all of us. I landed back in Portland and it was cold again and my eyes had still been red from crying. But when I got out to the passenger pick up my mother was there and when I got to hug her again I was happy. My life changed for the better this summer and I got so many new memories I can cherish for the rest of my life.

Public Comments

1. The grammar is terrible! Nearly every sentence I read has an error in it. The first sentence is missing a comma. The second has a serious syntax problem (plus am should be in caps). The third is missing a subject and some punctuation. The fourth: you reminisce about, not of. The fifth sentence is ok! The sixth sentence should be two separate sentences. That was where I gave up and stopped reading. I scanned down the text and continued to find more errors everywhere. It was impossible to concentrate on the story. Sorry, but this is pretty bad writing. You need some serious study of the rules of grammar. Nothing personal, honest input. If I were your teacher, this would not get a passing grade.