How Obstacles Changed My Life

Ever since I was little I wanted to have a significant impact on the world to show my life is worthwhile. Obstacles have been part of my life struggles beginning at the age of three, when I was informed my mother would probably only live for one to two years, because she has an autoimmune disorder that was unidentifiable. However, my mother overcame the odds and is alive, but can’t function as a healthy individual. Thus me and my sister were home-schooled and I quickly stepped into the shoes of caretaker as my father had to work to support our family. Being a young girl and having the responsibility of cooking and cleaning and attend to my mother while she had seizures, but also having to minister to her, has ultimately changed my life.
Of course, you are wondering what a child can do for a job, well we mowed 6-7 yards a day. Later as the age of 14, a week before Thanksgiving, my mother received a call informing her that my sister Elizabeth had stage 3 Thyroid cancer. Then my father had to disclose to his employer for insurance purposes and was terminated. At this point, we could not afford to buy food and had to go to the homeless shelter, yet were disquiet because we were not “poor” enough. When the month of December came around my sister had to go under the knife to have her thyroid removed. Her simple 3-hour operation turned into 9 1/2 and I remember praying that my sister would be alright, and she made it. Hours and hours went by, I waited, sitting in agony watching my 1 and 3-year-old little brothers at my grandparents home. The accumulation of the stress was too much for my grandparents to bear, which led to them leaving the house quite often and resulted in them forgetting to keep food in the house. I remember the feeling of despondence as I feed my little brothers, and them crying,”I’m hungry” because I didn’t have anything to feed them. When I finally had the chance to see my sister, I refused. I didn’t want to be there and see her in pain. When I finally arrived at the hospital, I sat in the ICU waiting room and I heard the bad news being broken to another family, that their child had just flat lined. I was terrified as I walked down the hallway and as my eyes gazed on Elizabeth, with tears filled in them. Something in the operation went wrong , she layed there mourning because she might become a mute. That was last time I visited Elizabeth in the hospital, as I had to be strong for my family. I had to persevere in order to be the caretaker of my brothers for an additional two months. As the years went on, things started to improve, I joined an NJROTC group and