It’s impossible to imagine all of the things my parents and siblings have done for me in just one thought. I remember my dad rubber-cementing a fishing reel to a block of wood for me to create my second grade class’s coolest simple machine project. I remember my mom sitting next to me in bed reading the story of a rebellious child who grew up too fast for his mother to cherish the great times they had spent together. My mom always cried when she read that one. I remember my younger sister, Bre, spending thirty dollars on a chocolate fountain for me for Christmas, much more than I had ever spent on her, and Chloe painting pictures of me four times taller than everyone else with scribbles in the corner resembling something along the lines of “To Austin, I Luv U.” I remember.
Just like any other kid growing up, I often doubted that my parents could be cool and I took for granted all of the things they did for me. When I would see my sister during passing time in eighth grade I would look the other way, fearing the embarrassment that would emerge if she were to talk to me. It took me a while to put everything in my life into perspective, but when I did it turned out that the people I live with are my number one priority.
Taking into account the amount of work my family puts into keeping me satisfied, I owe them a five-hundred-words-or-less essay at the least. Although I’ll be moving away to college later this year, the time I get to spend with my family now will always be there with me. The friends I have, the decisions I make, and wherever I may end up in life are all attributes of being raised by people who genuinely cared for me. My family is awesome. This I believe.
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