Writing Workshop Topic

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This is a a writing prompt that I did today in my english class.

Submitted: September 16, 2010

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Submitted: September 16, 2010



When I was younger Ilived in Newport with my family. When Iturned 10 my dad died and a little over a year later my mom decided she wanted to move us all up to Portland, where she had been raised. The reason she gave us for the move was that most of her family and friends lived up there and she needed to be there for her mom, who was sick. But I think her real reason was that she was lonely without my dad even though she had my little brother and I around, and she seemed to need to be in a place that was more familiar to her, more comforting.

Before she decided to move us up hereIhad only been up to Portland a few times that Icould remember, and it was always one area of Portland that I remember seeing. When we were in the process of moving and finding a house, my mom and Iwould drive around sometimes, and she would show me places she had lived or gone to school. Ihad grown up with her stories of her childhood and growing up in portland, but actually seeing the places after just trying to imagine it all for so many years was so strange. Icould almost see all the memories my mom had as she was showing methese places. The house she lived in as a little girl, The boarding school which she hated going to, the house she lived in when her mom died. So much pain, and happiness, and just plain confusion. It was such a strange feeling to be there with her as she remembered all these memories, mainly because these places didn't have any meaning for me, and they had so much meaning for her.

I would wish that I could have been there, maybe as a shadow, so I could have seen and heard what she had to go through as a child, just to learn from the experience, to compare what it was like then with what it's like now, because maybe I could learn something new, not just about my mom, but that time period in general. Iwould wonder sometimes if some thingshadn't happen to my mom as a child, how would she, and subsequently myself, have turned out differently, or remained the same? Would I even want her different?Because you never know how it would turn out in the end. I'm so proud of my mom for all she's gone through, and I'm glad she has shared with me over the years all her memories and stories. They helped shape who she is now and she has helped shape who I hope to become.

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