Memoir Essay- Blog 6

I’ve lived in the same house for my entire life. Through my 23 years of life, my house has been filled with joy, anger, aggression, sorrow, and every emotion in between. As we have grown up together, my sister and I are very different people. There have been times my mother has said that she would never know we are sisters. My mother reminds me of the small differences, like how my sister was constantly crying as an infant and how I almost never did. Growing up, we were treated vastly different. My sister was first at walking, talking, reading, writing and unfortunately finding trouble and following it.

When I was 10 years old my family was going through a difficult time. My grandfather had just recently passed away and my father was still an emotional wreck. He had not been working for the last several months, and my mother was paying most of our bills. My sister had just turned 13, and had begun to develop a less than appropriate temperament. She was constantly referred to as a rebel child. My parents had little assets to accommodate what was going on in their lives, much less to help my sister. Originally I used to blame my sister for abusing my parent’s tolerance. After several months of my sister constantly breaking the rules my parents decided to try something new. My aunt and uncle had referred them to an organization called “Tough Love.” Every Tuesday night they would go to these “tough love” meetings. The goal was to control my sister through the advice of the people in the organization. The routine was very simple. I’ve come home from school at 3:30. My mother would make me something fast for dinner at 5 and by 6 PM they were out. Most times they didn’t come home before I went to sleep. For years, they would just refer to this place as “the group” For several years, my parents chose not to disclose the severity of this situation. More amazingly, while my parents were at these meetings my sister was elsewhere. She often didn’t make it home before I fell asleep. I’m not sure whether they didn’t know she was out, or just didn’t know how to react to her. You would think that if you’re having problems with your kids, the worst thing to do is to leave them alone on a regular basis.
My parents went to this organization for several years; they have stated that nothing they learned there helped with our situation. At times, I am still angry about what those years did to my family.

During the first year that my parents had been attending “the group” we nearly had a meltdown. My father and sister were having a fight. Although no one can remember the exact reason for the fight, it was not exactly an uncommon occurrence. After several minutes of yelling and screaming, my sister ran down the stairs and stormed out the house. My father stormed down the stairs, and when he reached the bottom he sat down breathing heavily. I was sitting in the same room, watching and my dad began complaining of chest pains. He almost lost consciousness. My mother was still working. I was scared. I grabbed the phone and called 911. My mother was still at work so I called her immediately after. She rushed home and came about 10 minutes after the ambulance. (Despite her commute usually being well over 30 minutes.) The ambulance was there within minutes. My neighbor came next door when she saw the ambulance. My neighbor had watched myself and my sister grow up and was worried that something horrible had happened. My sister returned home about 30 minutes later just as the ambulance was leaving. My father was lying inside on the couch, recovering. When my mother saw my sister, she said nothing to her and walked away from her. Things were very quiet that evening. After that night, I tried to look the other way when my sister and parents were arguing. This family struggle continued for the next few years.
My sister finally started to work things out with my parents four years later. Through that time, she had gone through more arguments, fights, groundings, and eventually being kicked out of my house for two months. In her senior year of high school she began to face the reality that in one more year if she was kicked out, she was an adult. When they began to cooperate my parents stop going to “the group.” My parents did learn something about the experience with my sister. They have always been there for me when I need them to be and also realize that I need my own personal space. They realized that if they constantly pressure me for information about my life I will close them out of my life just as she did. My sister and I finally have one thing in common, our family.

Feedback? I'd like to know if I should be putting it in a different style or if I need to put more details in it.