Essay #1

       Growing up in the household of two, I’ve never thought there would be an addition in the family. I grew up with my father nowhere in sight due to my parent’s divorce. My parents had a divorce around the age of two for his abuse in the relationship. Since I was very young, I have no memory of his appearance. I’ve never seen my biological father, even to this day, but I grew up happily with my mother in our apartment in Japan. Our apartment was pretty big just for the two of us. It had three rooms and a living room. One of the room was mine and it was filled with numerous amount of stuffed animals and dolls. I had so many toys that it was impossible to step into the room without injuring the stuffed toys. Even though I was surrounded by my toys, I never slept in my room because I preferred sleeping beside my mother.
My mother was very hardworking, caring, and loving. She had a daytime job at a local jewelry story and a night job at her bar. Her bar was located on the fifth floor of the building. There were times I would visit in the small bar. It had a karaoke box located at the corner. Many of the customers were police officers or owners of stores in the town. She worked all day to insure my happiness. I was very much spoiled by mother. She provided me so many things, equivalent to what a child would have with a father and a mother. I still remember she came home with a bag from the Disney store one day and she took out a Snow White dress made with velvet material. The dress had a dark navy blue on the chest area, bubbled up shoulder with candy apple red color, and the warm golden yellow for the skirt. My mother disciplined me to mature up with the right attitudes and manners while she spoiled me like a princess. Since my mother gave me an infinite amount of love, I’ve never felt sad about not having a father; I never cared for a fatherly figure. I was convinced that a child does not necessary need both parents as long as there was a strong love given by one. At a young age, I always imagined myself that I will stay in Japan with my mother.
Around the age of five, my mother had introduced me to this Hawaiian/Chinese man named Nelson, who spoke some Japanese. He was an air-craft mechanic in the Navy and he was stationed in Japan for his work. I started seeing this man quite often and he was starting to take part in family activities. We’d take a trip to out of town in his car to the amusement parks or to random places. His car was different from regular cars. He was a car fanatic and he’d go street racing on his spare time. His car was very petite; a two door with four seats. The paint was very shiny, the driver’s seat built to comfort and protect the driver, steering wheel had black rubber for the grip, parts attached like an actual racing car, and the sound of his engine was howling from the big muffler. He used to have me sit on his lap while he was driving around the neighborhoods so I could experience “driving”, although he was the one who was actually controlling the gas and the steering wheel.
Throughout the days, he would sometimes come over to the house to play video games or we‘d go out and he would carry me on to his shoulders. As the days passed by, I was becoming comfortable and starting to enjoy his presence. When I was entering my first year in elementary, then I’ve realized that their relationship was starting to get really serious. One night, out of curiosity I asked where Nelson was, instead of answering my question, my mother responded with, “You’ll have to start calling him ‘dad’ soon”.  I was in complete shock. I honestly do not remember the actual reason but I remember feeling more upset than happiness with the sudden news. Probably because my mother already had said “Yes” to his proposal without informing me.
In my second month of first grade, my mother left Japan to meet my now, stepfather’s parents and have their wedding ceremony in Hawaii. I was unable to tag along with them and attend the wedding due to school. So for that week when they were gone, my days were spent with my grandmother. When my parents had arrived back to Japan, they had another wedding celebration at my mother’s bar. The small bar was filled with family members and close friends laughing and screaming with joy. The party was very festive and my awkward feelings about my mother’s remarriage was replaced with pure happiness. My parents had asked me to make a speech which I gladly accepted. Although I do not remember what words came out of my mouth that night, I had entertained the guests.
I am now nineteen years old. Fourteen years of my life with my stepfather did not turn out great like I had originally imagined when my mother married this person, but I am thankful for him walking into my mother’s and my life. And also thankful for deciding to spend rest of his life with her so she can finally take a break from all of the hard work she has done in the past. I am now blessed with four siblings which makes the household very chaotic. I tend to forget that they’re “half sisters/brother” and although they are very energetic maniacs, they brighten my day. I enjoy watching these monstrous rascals grow up. Because I love this family so much, and ever since I was child, I never cared for my biological father. It never came to my mind to meet him. I do have the chance and the option to meet my biological father if I desire but, once again, I simply don’t care for it.
If my mother did not marry this man, I would not be here in California speaking English. I would’ve grown up to be the typical Japanese girl instead of a Japanese girl with an American citizenship. Most likely, I would’ve grown up in the town where I was born, probably still in the same apartment where my mother had raised me. I would’ve never imagined settling and attending college in California and typing this essay in my second language. All in all, my mother’s remarriage completely changed my life in a very positive way.