Friday, September 13, 2019

MEMORY ABOUT FAMILY Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

MEMORY ABOUT FAMILY - Essay Example My sister would parade around like some kind of prima donna plucked from the cover of Sports Illustrated while my mom ran around the house like she was preparing for the second coming of Christ. Their eyes would avert mine as I would sink into a lonely corner where no one cared to go. My sister and mother would make it to the car to be sure they would be on time, and I would always be dragging behind, reluctant and resistant. All the other families on the block had boys that played Little League with fathers that played catch. Not ours. Thanks to my mother, my father was 1000 miles away and I didn't have any brothers. In her twisted mind, my mother was fulfilling the father role by turning my little sister into a sports jock. As the car started to back out of the drive I thought to myself, "I'm more athletic than that chiffon Barbie doll in the front seat that my mother was dressing up in a softball uniform. My sister couldn't bat her way out of a bad movie". Yet, maybe because she was the baby of the family, she was the chosen one. My mother had suddenly become an authority on baseball and as she screamed from the bleachers, bolstered by vodka and Valium, it was I that was embarrassed. I turned away from the haughty glances of the softball moms that had gathered together to giggle and dispense their snide remarks. Every game would make me wonder if they were snickering at my mother or me. Was my misfortune the object of their entertainment By the fifth inning, my sister was hitless and my mother was missing. I spotted her behind the concession stand sneaking into her purse to top off her drink. I again sensed a wave of laughing and whispering. The icy stares of the 'good moms' sliced through my back. I just wanted to go home and hide. The only bright spot of the day came when my sister struck out in the bottom of the seventh inning to end the game. That meant that the torture was over. There would be no more false cheers, no tittering gossip, and no pretending that everything was OK. My sister was silent as my mother staggered back to the car. "I'll drive," I said. Though I was old enough, I didn't have a driver's license. I had no adult to take me to get the necessary permits. Driving was one more thing that my mother didn't allow me to do. I couldn't play sports, music lessons were too expensive, and driving was out of the question. My mother wouldn't even let me date any boy that had a car. "Oh, well," I thought, "Who needs 'em. I've gotten along this far without a man in my life. What's a few more years." As we began the short drive home, my mother kept criticizing my driving. "Stay on the road," she yelled. "Watch that car." My mother was irritated with my sister for going 0 for 3 in the game and she was taking it out on me. My patience had outlived its useful life. "If you weren't so careless I wouldn't have to drive. You're the most irresponsible person I've ever met and I've known some real losers," I snapped. "How dare you talk to me like

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