Change Is Unchangable

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Danielle DeLoux
Ms. Spradling
AP Language and Composition, R4
October 7, 2010
Change is Unchangeable
I loved spending my summers in California with my Tio. Every week was the same; a comforting and change free schedule. Practically every morning we would wake up at around nine and eat chadillso and egg for breakfast, we would run errands if we needed to, go to the bookstore or a movie in the afternoon, and take a walk in the evenings. Weekends we would visit my Aunt and my cousin Lauren, who was three years older than me, and Sundays we would wake up early, go to 7:30 mass, and then spend the rest of the day on the beach. My Tio was about 68 when I started flying out in 1st grade. He was kind and gentle, guiding and firm. I loved him with everything I was. But we all grow and develop and age; it’s life. Unfortunately age did not treat my Tio well, for the last 5 years of his life he was put through the pain and struggle of living. His mind gave out on him. This picture of my Tio and me represents not my fear of dying, but my fear of living too long.

I remember my older brother, when he was into his Star Wars and Lord of the Rings trading cards, when he painted models and spent hours drawing the tiniest detail on the mountains in a sketch pad that he kept close by at all times. I remember my Mom’s long, dark brown, curly hair, which would tangle and make a mess yet it appeared flawless at the same time. I remember my Dad’s short shorts, which clearly went higher above the knee than we ever want to see now a days. I remember my little brother’s chubby cheeks, and teaching him to count to five. I remember my Tio’s wheezy and comforting laugh. I remember many things. Things I miss dearly. Why do things have to change? Why do we have to grow up? These are all questions I find asking myself regularly. My older brother is now a junior in college, engaged to be married and in the ROTC of the Army – a grown man, age of 20, that no longer plays cards, or...
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