THE IMPORTANCE OF MY FAMILY

Ups and Downs of BrotherhoodHaving a little brother can be, no, is a pain in the butt. He is always trying to be better than me and copying my every move. The best part is the ability to beat him up on a daily basis. Although I dislike him about 95% of the time, when he asked me to be his Confirmation sponsor I was over joyed. The kind of joy that warms your heart and puts a smile on your face, like when you know you have made an impact on someone’s life. This feeling reinsured I was actually being a good brother and not the menace older brother I acted like.

“This hurts so bad, but feels so good!” is what my brother and I were yelling while swinging and feeling the pin-like stabs of the rain pounding against our skin.

My brother and I truly see eye to eye on one thing, which was what sport we choose to play, baseball. Growing up I was not

always the best player, but I knew how to play the game correctly, I just struggled applying it. Watching my brother

follow in my footsteps I didn’t want him to struggle like I did; the pain of failure and disappointment was nothing I would wish my brother to feel. I promised myself I would take my

knowledge and teach him. I would take him to the fields down the street to hit him groundballs and work on his swing. He

would struggle, fuss that he was hot and tired, but I told him “If you do not quit being a girl, you might as well play

softball!” That always seemed to motivate him. We would be out there for hours till the sun set and our sweat had covered our faces and drenched our shirts. These would be the times

my brother and I actually got along together. Seeing him progress in his fielding ability, and perfect his swing was

amazing. It was my way of helping him succeed and reach his dream of playing ball on Junior Varsity.

Baseball Brothers

My Broken BrotherThere he goes, he jumps, he slips, and splash

in the water! “Hey mom, I think I broke my leg,” said my brother from the pool. His voice

so serious yet so calm led everyone to believe it wasn’t actually broken. My whole family stopped and looked at him. With a dead straight face, not one tear, he was

serious, he thought it was broken. My mom helped him out of the pool and sat him down on a chair. She asked if he could walk and he replied “No.” After about two hours at the

hospital my parents were back and my brother, surely enough, had a cast, with a spiral fracture up his leg. For the next six months I did just about anything for him

since he was crippled. It was a nightmare.

Me vs. My Brother & DadBeing the oldest son gives me the upper hand when it comes to physical strength. My brother would always come up to me acting like he is THE HULK, chest pumped and arms flexed. There was just one small problem, he is half my size. “Let’s go!,” my brother would say in his deepest manly voice. I would just simply chuckle and reply “Go where?” He would then proceed to grab me; I would let him get in whatever position he would like, usually it was sometime of head lock. Once I say “go” I usually flip him over me somehow and drop him quicker than a baby out of a crib. After that I would usually get double teamed by both him and my dad, still both of them combined were no match for me.

My Dad & CoachThroughout my baseball career I experienced several different coaches each with a unique coaching style. My all-time favorite coach would definitely have to be my dad. He has coached me since I started playing at nine years old. We would stand in our garage for hours until the sweat was dripping off our noses, attempting to perfect my swing. Anger and frustration grew deep in his eyes, he would begin to shake his head, pace, and sigh, not because I was doing bad but because he knew the pain of me being unsuccessful brought me. He never gave up on me though, and always told me to strive for my best. “That’s good, but you can do better,” is his favorite saying.

Thanks for My Family For the last ten years of my life my Thanksgiving feast has been in the same room, on the same magnificent table. The turkey on one side and the ham on the other. My parents sitting at both ends, while my siblings and I filled the sides. We would all be pouring love and thanks across the entire house. From the smiles on our faces to the hugs and kisses after dinner it was always a memory. Right before every meal my dad always would say a blessing over our food and family. Even though the blessing is in Spanish and I only could understand the start of it, “God, thank you for my family and this food…” It served as a reminder to keep family and God in the center of my life.

Christmas TraditionIt was Christmas morning and my brother and I woke up at 5 in the morning to prance on my parents’ bed till they woke up. We would then go beg and yell at our sisters to wake up, but they always procrastinated and took forever. I would try and sit patiently, but it was the longest 15 minutes of my life. I would end up banging on my sisters’ door, with my brother right beside me, until they came out. Once everybody was finally up we all ran downstairs into our billiard room, where all the presents were stacked about a mile high on the table. We happily organized the presents to who they belonged. Then we all grabbed presents, read the names, and placed them in our assigned spots around the room till they were all arranged so that we could watch each other open gifts. Now for the fun part. My brother first tears apart the wrapping paper and finds his gift. I’m up next, pressure is on. I don’t want to pick the best gift first; I rather save the best for last. This choice never left me disappointed.

Road Trip with My SistersThis past May I was on a flight to Washington D.C. with my oldest sister to accompany my younger sister on her 14 hour drive home from Maryland. When our plane finally landed, my sister was waiting for us at the gate. We then ventured off to explore D.C. and to eat some delicious cupcakes, a family tradition when visiting Arlin. The next day we woke up fairly early around four o’clock in the morning to head out on our adventure. I ended up driving a majority of the road trip because I knew my sisters wanted to sleep. The trip happened to be very entertaining. My sisters don’t use their common sense very well so sometimes you hear, “so are we going I-95 North or South to get to Florida?” The trip became quite comical if I don’t say so myself. Overall it was a good experience and a great chance for me to catch up with my sisters, or at least it was better than sitting in class for two days.

A Surprise Visit

My sister left for college, and she wasn’t close either. She decided she was best suited at the University of Maryland. Because of this choice, she flies home for holidays and important events. Well one night she

came home just to visit home for a weekend and my parents did not inform me at all. It was a normal school night, and I had gone to bed at 10 o’clock. Around one in the morning I wake up to someone

sitting on my bed, poking my side repeatedly. I start screaming “GET OUT! GET OUT! WHO ARE YOU?!?!” I started throwing punches in the dark. She jumped

back and began laughing because after a few seconds of having a heart attack I realized who it actually

was… my sister.

Super MomLast summer I had a baseball tournament in Atlanta and my mom was the one who took me. Due to the non-stop summer rain we ended up sitting in the hotel room more than I played. I was expecting it to be boring, but my mom actually made it fun. We bought a deck of cards, we played Borne Miles, we also went and saw the Atlanta Braves play at Turner Field. The most exciting thing was going to stand on the largest granite mountain in America. Standing almost 900 ft. above the ground looking over Atlanta with my mom was awesome. To see the vast land rolling past the horizon was breathtaking and made me realize how small we really are in this world. It was unlike anything I had ever done before. The trip ended up being so much better than I could have expected.

Super Mom

“MOM! I need help!” is what I screamed across the house “What? Come down here?” she replied. I

would explain to her that I have a big project due in two days. Instantly, she began brainstorming and

thinking of different ways we could create a masterpiece. She was the best at helping with last minute stuff and would never complain, but would

yell at me for waiting till the last minute. I never did learn my lesson. Even if it was midnight and it looked good enough for a “C” she would keep me there till it was “A” material. Surely enough every time I would get an “A” and it would all be thanks to my mom.

Never has she ever let me down, it is almost like she has super powers.

Princess (R.I.P.)

 The worst day of my four years in high school was May 24, 2012. I came home after a long, stressful Thursday of school to be told the worst

news. Ten years ago my family moved back to Florida because my dad had a wonderful job opportunity in Orlando. The following Easter my

parents surprised us with the most beautiful puppy Golden Retriever I ever laid my eyes on. Her name was Princess Ginger Delgado, and she was perfect. She grew up to be strong, friendly, and a protector of our

house. Around the time she turned seven she was diagnosed with cancer, the vet said she would only have 6-10 months to live. Well they were wrong, she fought hard and went two whole years being nothing but the best. Now it’s Thursday May 24th and once I walk in the door, I

see my mom and sister bawling at the table. I knew something was wrong right away. “Mom what’s going on?” I asked. She dug deep and

pulled out the words “We are putting Princess to sleep…” Without hesitation I dropped my bag and ran over to where she was laying in her bed, and I laid with tears running down my face holding her in my arms,

and with a broken heart.