I got a ride home from school just like any other ordinary day in October of 2013. It was more than two years ago but I still remember every unpleasant moment, starting from when I walked in the door. My sister, Kaitlyn, sat on the couch in our living room yelling at her phone, who I soon found out was my mom. This wasn’t surprising for me since they had been arguing all Summer due to our move to Hawaii in June.
Dymon left to go to her aunt’s house in maryland . Mrs.dehila didn 't want dymon to spend her summer in norfolk. She spent almost the whole summer, she came back in august. Things weren’t the same when she came back.
It was a horrible experience. My son was too young for daycare, so I had to find an individual to watch him. That was not easy and very expensive. My health declined because I wasn’t getting enough sleep—or enough to eat—because I was too tired working all day and staying up all night with my son. I eventually ended up in a hospital for a week because I got so sick.
I 'm Joanna but most people call me Jo; the "anna" got dropped when I realized I wouldn 't stay in the comfort zone any longer! I was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and moved to the USA at five years old, where I adopted the "Coming to America" story. My single independent mother worked her butt off to give all three of her kids the opportunity to do and be whatever they wanted. That meant several weekends cleaning houses, painting with her, and overall just working to build character. Two decades later and I can absolutely confirm that I 'm doing exactly what I 've always dreamed of, so I thank her for the sacrifices every day.
My recent spring vacation had consisted of taking care of Helena as a mother’s helper and I had spent several weekends changing diapers, mixing formula, and watching over her brothers and sisters. After she died, I became overwhelmed with all these ideas of how she would never again giggle at my silly faces, never learn to ride a bike, let alone walk, and never take part in any childlike adventures. This unforeseeable tragedy changed my life forever.
When my older sister went off to college, I had never seen a more driven, mature and intelligent 18 year old look so terrified and reluctant to leave her home just a few states away. Caroline had spent the majority of her high school years stressed, angry and tired, holed up in her single room acing more APs than I can count with two hands. My sister knew from the time she could read that success meant getting into an Ivy, even if the price was throwing away all human contact or not. Myself, was not so sure. I had been shaped by a front-row-seat to the 24-hour shows of a hormonal workaholic—years spent listening to crying, yelling, and disturbing silences from upstairs in Caroline’s room taught me that in order to earn a college acceptance,
My bags were completely packed for our upcoming trip to Charleston, South Carolina. I had been waiting for this seemingly perfect trip for the whole summer. When we arrived at our cabin, it was less than what we expected; much less. The private cottage was extremely outdated. When we first walked in, you could hear my mother shriek after she spotted a cockroach near the fireplace.
I begged my mom to take me to Seaworld for my birthday. Seaworld was in San Diego which was two hours away. Anyway, my mom surprised me and took me to Seaworld for my birthday. I was the happiest 10-year-old ever. I was so fucking happy at Seaworld.
February 5, 2007, Houston Texas, it was 4:20 am when the alarm when off. I was spending the last moments with my family before embarking in the most challenging adventure of my young life yet; I was 20. The rainy morning accentuated the heavy feeling of departure. I gathered my emotions, thoughts and my single luggage, and proceeded to kiss my mother good-bye. She barely moved, the pain of seeing her youngest son leaving without knowing when would be the next time she would see him was unbearable. Her eyes were sparkling, full of tears wanting to explode but were held like a dam holds wild rivers.
“We are going to Miami and meeting up with your sister and dad” she said. Her hazel eyes filled with happiness and joy because we would be a family again. I had been apart from my sister for a year and my father for 6 months. I missed them very much but I didn’t want to leave.
It is almost two in the morning, and we still have not been able to see her. Five days have passed by, and the presence of my mother was non-existent. School is out for the weekend; time to have fun and mess around and the sight of her brings a smile to our faces. The days fly by fast, and she goes missing once again.
Helicopters cover the sky, over two thousand students are being searched for guns and explosives, smoke seeping through the roof. This eighty seconds, felt like a lifetime. The day was Friday, December 13, 2013. Yes you heard me correctly, the day was Friday the thirteenth. One day before the anniversary of Sandy Hook.
Several years ago, I found myself riding in the passenger seat of my family’s car, riding west towards Canton, Mississippi. At around four o-clock that morning, my mom had received a phone call from the hospital regarding her father, who had been admitted that morning after accidentally overdosing on his numerous medications. A few minutes later, we were on the road to Mississippi. When we finally arrived in Mississippi, there were several cars in my grandad’s parking lot. My mom got out, and told me to stay in the car.