On top of that work schedule her husband still expected to come home and do the chores that were expected of someone who did not work. It was very shocking to read that her husband would just leave; whereas most husbands would want to see their wives after working all day. "While they both works full-time, "it was just assumed I did all the cooking, all the cleaning, all the baking, all the clothes shopping. He didn 't even buy his own underwear... Over the years there was a lot of resentment" ' (Collins 27). I wonder how in the world did this man survive?
For some, my Papa, for example, the news that they had passed away came from nowhere but for others, like my Granda, I watched them deteriorate over time. Regardless of how I 've come to cross paths with death, it 's never been easy. The first time I remember losing someone: I was only four. My Great Uncle Edward meant the world to me, and although I was very young I have many fond memories of him. From eating porridge together in the mornings to helping my mum clean his house, not a day went by I wasn 't in his company.
“Oh, the difference between nearly right and exactly right.”(H. Jackson Brown, Jr.) What this quote is saying is that perfectionists do struggle with making sure that everything is exactly right. They always focus on the tiniest of details. In the story Pancakes by Joan Bauer, Jill, a waitress at a pancake house, works on the busiest day of the week and gets overwhelmed with all the work she has to do. It doesn’t help that she is a perfectionist and is the only one working the shift. But, when her ex boyfriend shows up with his family for a meal, he realizes the stress Jill is feeling, and helps her with the customers until it all dies down.
My shift got cut short because of packing. Even though the trip is scheduled for weeks from now. Weeks Later Things started to change; Silence hovered over the house, dinner was what seemed to be a room of despair, and timed started to run out. “Packed?” Mom asked, staring at the dented floor. Unlike my father, she was supportive of my trip, but shaky on my leaving.
The “Great Recession” was not only a hideous word, but a malicious truth in my household. My father being an immigrant lost the position he had held for years and so after that lucky nights for us were when we had just enough beans and tortillas to fill our bellies; other nights, my stomach would gnaw with pain and hunger, for I had given it to my younger siblings. My father was out on the streets, scavenging for jobs that were non-existent and my mother waited in line to pawn that necklace I received for my baptism along with other meaningful objects. Many fights occurred at home, since the stress got to our head and the pain followed us to our bead. Now, I was around ten years old but I understood the chaos around me and I was not empty of ideas on how to improve the
“Who, in this tired and overworked family, would have had time to give more attention to Gregor than was absolutely necessary? The household budget became even more smaller; so now the maid was dismissed;....They carried out absolutely everything that the world expects from poor people, Gregor's father brought bank employees their breakfast, his mother sacrificed herself by washing clothes for strangers, his sister ran back and forth behind her desk at the behest of the customers, but they just did not have the strength to do any more. And the injury in Gregor's back began to hurt as much as when it was new” (Kafka 33). The Samsa also sold their jewelries. Grete have to work and take care of Gregor so she gets exhausted each time.
We argued just like any other siblings over who got the best clothes or for eating each other’s food without asking for permission. My siblings, especially my middle sister will tell me to get the TV remote even when it was only 10 feet away, make the bed every morning because she was feeling too “lazy” or help her with the house chores because learning house chores at an early age was important. Now that I introspect upon these moments, I realize that it has shaped my identity in a way that if it did not happen I would not be as responsible and mature as I am today. However, the memories that I shared with my siblings also created a void in my heart to have a younger sibling- a brother or sister did not matter to me. All I knew was that I did not want to accept that I was the youngest of three sisters and one brother.
Most of Yen Mah’s family members could care less about her and often forget that she exists. For example when her family moves to Shanghai, on the first day of school, everyone forgot about her and no ne arranged a ride for her to get to school. Another example of this was when her father forgot both Yen Mah’s original chinese name and birth date when filling out her landing cards. She describes this pain by saying, “A pang went through me. I meant so little to him, I was such a nobody, he didn’t even remember my name!” (125).
You couldn’t be on my side that long for nothing, could you? Ruth: Walter, please leave me alone. Walter: A man needs a woman to back him up…”(Hansberry 8 and 9). In this he is being rude and disrespectful to Ruth by assuming that she doesn’t care about him, their son, or the way they live anymore. Both characters in the stories fail to become rich and known.
Every time the sun set, I began to feel ‘sick’ which was a way for me being unable to escape. This is what slowly started to allow other problems to arise. The lack of sleep did not help me function properly. My relationship with my family started to take strain; my mom and dad were getting fed up; I kept them up at night and when they went out they could never enjoy themselves with the thirty phone calls from me. Each morning at school I would run after my mom and spend every morning in the counsellor’s office.