Friday, July 19, 2019
Jeannine :: Personal Narrative Papers
Jeannine She had seen things and experienced a life that I only knew about through the movies. She acted as though she knew I would not be able to understand her, but I could see in her eyes that she hoped I could. e stood in the driveway, physically closer than we had been to each other in two weeks. Jeannine, my sister, did not stay at home too much anymore. She had dedicated her existence to her boyfriend Steven and chose to live with his family so that the two of them could be closer. My parents were supportive and open, but they would never have let their seventeen year old daughter sleep in the same bed under their roof with her nineteen-year-old boyfriend. So after countless years of tension and arguments, my sister had achieved what she had sought for years, independence from her family, but most of all from her older brother. Now standing in that driveway, our childhood playground, as I prepared for the long journey to James Madison University, we realized that the past five years of our lives had been wasted. Her constant struggles to get out of the house coupled with my harsh attempts to see that she met that goal consumed our adolescent years, the period where we needed each other the most. My parents told me that they were ready to leave, and I gave Jeannine a long hug. It was the first time in half a decade that I gave her a meaningful show of affection. I met her with the love that I had suppressed for so long, rather than the hate and loathing that was quick to my aid in the many years of confrontation that we shared. It was then, as her head rested on my chest and her arms wrapped around me, that I realized the wrongs I had done to her. All of a sudden, I did not want to leave. I had my sister back, how could I abandon her again? No one can really claim to have a perfect childhood sibling relationship, but we were still very close. At times, we could even be proud of one another. Yet, as in all sibling bonds, these good tidings never lasted. Our games of tic-tac-toe or kickball with our friends would go from friendly backyard, Little- House-on-the-Prairie type moments to screaming matches in a matter of days. Jeannine :: Personal Narrative Papers Jeannine She had seen things and experienced a life that I only knew about through the movies. She acted as though she knew I would not be able to understand her, but I could see in her eyes that she hoped I could. e stood in the driveway, physically closer than we had been to each other in two weeks. Jeannine, my sister, did not stay at home too much anymore. She had dedicated her existence to her boyfriend Steven and chose to live with his family so that the two of them could be closer. My parents were supportive and open, but they would never have let their seventeen year old daughter sleep in the same bed under their roof with her nineteen-year-old boyfriend. So after countless years of tension and arguments, my sister had achieved what she had sought for years, independence from her family, but most of all from her older brother. Now standing in that driveway, our childhood playground, as I prepared for the long journey to James Madison University, we realized that the past five years of our lives had been wasted. Her constant struggles to get out of the house coupled with my harsh attempts to see that she met that goal consumed our adolescent years, the period where we needed each other the most. My parents told me that they were ready to leave, and I gave Jeannine a long hug. It was the first time in half a decade that I gave her a meaningful show of affection. I met her with the love that I had suppressed for so long, rather than the hate and loathing that was quick to my aid in the many years of confrontation that we shared. It was then, as her head rested on my chest and her arms wrapped around me, that I realized the wrongs I had done to her. All of a sudden, I did not want to leave. I had my sister back, how could I abandon her again? No one can really claim to have a perfect childhood sibling relationship, but we were still very close. At times, we could even be proud of one another. Yet, as in all sibling bonds, these good tidings never lasted. Our games of tic-tac-toe or kickball with our friends would go from friendly backyard, Little- House-on-the-Prairie type moments to screaming matches in a matter of days.
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