The Importance of Family

Family is very important to an MK. I’d say it’s the second most important thing in an MK’s life, God being the first. Family was there when you were born and will be there when you die. The immediate family is what I’m talking about, as much as I love my extended family, my immediate family traveled all the way to Honduras with me.

    

            On the day I was born I had my mom and dad looking down on me and calling me ‘precious.’ They made me laugh, they fed me, bathed me, changed my dirty diapers, and most of all the made me feel loved. Sixteen months later my younger sister was brought into the world. Together with my mom and dad we loved and cared for her. I played with her and tried my best to care for her like my mom did. As we were so close in age I couldn't do all of the things my mom did to ensure she was well, but I did try. Three years after my first sister was born my other sister was given life. All four of us cared and loved her. Now I was old enough to hold and care for her like my mom. I was her ‘mini helper.’ I would do as much as I could for my mom. Four years after my sister, my brother was born. He had five of us to love and care for him. I helped care for him as well. I was older and was able to do much more for my mom then when I was younger. Our family stopped growing after my brother. Just us six, loving and caring for one another. Now, not every day was a pile of rainbows. We had our fights and arguments but we loved each other through them all.

                About three years after my brother was born, we moved to Honduras. All we had was each other. Everything else around us was unfamiliar and unusual. The one thing that was constant besides God was family. We would have to move to other places, would have to travel in a small car for hours together, would have to translate together, would have to help take care babies together, all these things we would do together. We experienced some of the same events together, some that would have never happened in the U.S. We had to do certain things that no other ‘normal’ families would have to do. One New Year’s Eve, my brother was attacked by a dog, a Japanese Akita to be exact. I was spending the night at my best friend’s house in the middle of nowhere and I get a phone call telling me my brother was being brought to the hospital. My sisters were going to stay with a babysitter as my parents went into the city to bring him to the hospital, they would spend the night there and bring us three in the morning. It was crazy! I was pretty worried about my little man; I didn't know too much about the situation, I wasn't even there. He survived with a few stitches behind his ear, on his head, and on his shoulder. All was a-okay, but we got through this incident together.

                I’m not an emotional person and I’m not very good at expressing how much I love my family. So, just to make it clear: I love my family. I love my mom, my dad, my two sisters, and my brother. I’m going to be going off to college next year and I’m going to miss them terribly. I won’t see my little brother grow up, I won’t see my youngest sister turn from tom-boy to liking boys, I won’t see my younger sister mature anymore, I've seen her grow up beside me but nonetheless I won’t see specific events that occur, I’ll only hear stories. My family has always been there for me and always will be. I love them and am thankful that God blessed me with such wonderful people. Never take your family for granted, I can’t express it any other way, they love you and you should love them much more than anything or anyone else, besides God that is! 

Goodbye, until next time!