The Great Change

I could feel a deep, hollow ache in my chest as I listen to their voices repeatedly buzz like bees inside my head. I was sitting on the couch, watching the scene unfold before me. I could feel the tears streaking down along my face as I tried to hide my expression from the others. I listen to the simultaneous inquiry of my family members. Stop, stop. I need to stop this now. I look up at the same time my grandmother glances at me.

"Oh no…" she trails off, and I walk over when she beckons to me, and the comforting gesture makes me cry harder. It also draws the attention of the others away from my mom. My uncle says something to me, but I don't want to listen to anyone now. My mom needed to decide.

She was thinking of remarrying. One might wonder what would be so bad about that. But she was thinking of marrying a convert to Islam. The members of my family were questioning her on that very subject. While my brother occupied himself with video games, I pretended not to listen or look at my own relatives pressuring and pestering my mother with questions, trying to cajole her into making the "right" decision.

So, here I am, in my grandmother's arms, crying my eyes out. Why is this happening? I feel the ache where my heart is beating erratically. I just want to turn back the clock and forget that this ever happened. This time, it is my mother who waves me over, and I hug her close, burying my face into her neck as I try to calm down. I then take a deep breath. Okay, now I can think rationally again. I can't stop this from happening. I know this situation is far from settled, but we—my mom, brother and I—ride home together. My mom tries to reassure me with the prospect of food.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asks.

I shake my head. I couldn't think of anything else but what I had just saw.

My life was about to change.

My mom had decided; she was going to remarry. After she had married, I had learned so much over the three years that our new stepdad had been with us. I had learned, for the first time, how to prepare before one would pray, and had the opportunity to pray with my stepdad and brother. After that experience, I had started to gain more and more respect for my stepfather each day. Then manners had arrived. He taught us mainly about the elbows on the table and chewing with one's mouth closed, and reminded us every once in a while when we would forget during dinnertime. But we had our little arguments sometimes as well.

As time went on, I started to notice things between my mother and stepfather. Unlike me and my brother's relationships with our new stepdad, they were both yelling at each other and getting into the most pointless arguments. In their third year of marriage, I started to get really tired of the fights and sometimes foolish arguments between them. I had almost expected them to announce that they would be soon getting a divorce, and I was proven right. He had left us.

After my mom had left for work, he had come home from his job and said that he had some urgent family business to take care of, and my brother and I had agreed, thinking that he would be coming back. He had claimed that he needed to stay up north for a couple of days. He would not elaborate any further. He had taken my brother and I to our grandmother's, and drove away.

Then a couple of days after the incident, I had found a letter from him under my pillow. He had talked about how he wanted us to stay in touch and still be friends, and I just didn't want to go through something like that again, where someone would walk out of my life. Regardless, I had come along, to see how he had changed. He seemed the same, and I was content. I would rather live with my mom and brother, than with the fighting that had seemed to escalate over the years between him and my mom. To this day, I would look back at the positive things that he had brought to our family, rather than the negative. I would smile to myself and think: Life goes on. One decides to keep the good memories close to their hearts and the bad memories far away. Forgiving and forgetting is never easily accomplished, but one can be strong and move on down his or her path of life. Life goes on, so keep up.

Every person had great and horrible memories that they remember like it happened yesterday. The events may be horrible to experience, such as, a death or divorce of someone close to one's family. There are also the great times; a first family vacation, a trip to another country, or maybe even meeting a celebrity. Sometimes, these memories haunt and benefit an individual at the same time, in the same way. I had learned to move on, just like everyone has had to do while in my place. Memories are what we would reminisce and not what we would remember as an obstacle.