My dad and I don't get along. There was a time, however, that we did. It was during the summer of 2012. My father promised two months earlier that our whole family would go to The Jamaica Grand, a beautiful hotel off the north coast of Montego Bay, Jamaica - and, of course, an eight-year-old me was extremely excited. Even though we lived in Jamaica, going to a hotel made the experience more than just living on the island.
The Friday of our perfect weekend arrived. My clothes were already packed and I was ready to go. I had to wait for my family and I hate waiting, (I still do). Waiting makes me anxious and I don't like that, I mean who does? My mom was getting my one-year-old sister ready and my dad was taking a shower. I wasn't really worried about my dad just taking a shower because he bathes really fast, I think it runs in the males of the family. My mom says we're just nasty. My parents got married the year before this summer trip after hard years of being with each other, nevertheless, they seemed happy.
My father was known in my family for a lot of things; he was the type of guy that everyone thought was bipolar and he's full of surprises. With him, you never know what you'll get until you get it and whether it's bad or good, it's extreme. When he's good, he's loving- he'll take us to the beach, movies, and restaurants. When he was bad he was scary, he had all the powers of Hulk but he was in human form, he was a monster in human skin. The whole family, relatives, and neighbors would feel the effect; it was a mini apocalypse each night. But this particular weekend we were the ideal family. No arguments, no fighting, no beating, just a nuclear family going off on summer vacation.
Once everyone was ready to go, we headed to find our happiness in the distance. Everyone's smiling, we're music blasting, we're all enjoying the ride. Upon reaching the hotel the first thing I saw was the pool. I was amazed and I couldn't wait to dive in, even though I couldn't swim, I wasn't going to let that stop my fun. Next, I noticed the Bellhop which automatically made me think of the Bellhop from "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody." The hotel was air conditioned and smelled like foreign air, I felt like I was in paradise - my own little piece of heaven.
I dropped my things and changed; it was pool time. Upon reaching the pool I was stunned! The pool had a bar in it and they served Sprite (my favorite). Remembering that I can't swim I got myself a life jacket, which would soon be my best friend for the weekend. I got in the pool and started my summer.
My parents came along with my little sister too. My mom was never really a fan of beaches and pools (maybe because she can't swim either), so she stayed at the shallow side with my baby sister and let her splash around a little. That is the thing I admire about my mom, she works seven days a week and still takes time out for her family. She sacrifices her happiness for the happiness of the family. She is the true backbone of our family. I've always seemed to take to my mother more; I was always clung to her, she's always stood up for me when it comes to my dad. My sister however always took to my dad more, but today it was different, today it was a boys day out and a girls day out. I went with my dad, my sister went with my mom, and we were all having fun.
My dad and I went out a little further into the pool, him holding me as I try to swim. I was fluttering but not moving, nevertheless, I was still having fun. Thankfully today I was blessed with the sane part of my father, the part I could tolerate, the version where I willingly accept that I had a loving and caring dad because if it wasn't this version my summer would've taken an 180 degree turn and gone differently. The other version was the one I feared, it was the one that I wished could work a couple more hours so my neighbors and I could just listen to the silence and peacefulness of him not being home.
With my Personal Floatation Device on I swam to the bar in the center of the pool, got a taste of what is one of the best-tasting Sprites ever, sipping it like I was drinking rum like the older men around me, It was AMAZING.
Night came and it was time for bed. My parents decided to go downstairs for a little party so they left me alone with my sister. That was a lot of responsibility to put on a nine-year-old.The AC was high, the movie was great, the sheets were comfy, it was the perfect night, and what was a bonus was the fact that before my parents left they put my sister to sleep, so I was basically a nine-year-old on my own vacation. I got a taste of what responsibility was. I just prayed she wouldn't wake up to find her parents gone because I would suffer. The high pitched "bawling" would certainly ruin my perfect night and that would have been the end of my perfect vacation.
Sometimes I wish she didn't have to grow up, sometimes I wish she was the quiet, sweet little sister who slept peacefully while our parents were away. Little did I didn't know it then, but in seven years time, I would find myself in America telling my sister I hated her. She started to be a pain from the age of two but I just thought she was in a phase, but the more she grew the worse it got and one day she broke my charger while it was in the outlet by kicking it and I just flipped. I was confused because she didn't really have a reason for doing it. She was just upset that she didn't get her own way. I started crying and I just said it, I said "I HATE YOU!" she replied just the same. It was shocking but I didn't really care, I was still pissed that she broke my charger. Even now, I'm still confused about how can such a sweet little girl transform into this devil child. I think it's because she chose the wrong parent to gravitate to.She chose our father, and the constant fighting and rift between mother and father had a negative effect on her. So in a sense it's not her fault because nobody gets to choose our parents, we just make the most of what is given. That's a lesson I learned reflecting upon this "Perfect Weekend."
I've also learned that even though being in a family can be tough, it's the good experiences and it's the lessons you learn from the bad experiences that really shape who you are in the future. You get two paths laid out in front of you and you get a taste of both. It is your decision whether you chose good or bad or even a little of both, which has led me to all the accomplishments I've achieved thus far in my life.
Being in such a complex family taught me how to separate my school life from my home life, the person I was at school was different from at home. I was an introvert at home, staying in my room with music blasting only coming out when I want food. An extrovert at school but laid back, always in class discussions and popular amongst friends. When my teachers always say "He's a good kid but he talks a lot" this always comes as a shocker to my family.
Being an introverted extrovert taught me how to stay focused,by understanding that school life and home life are two different situations and if you divide and conquer them you'll have a better time managing them.It taught me how to be humble and work for my success. Even though my family had its bad times I could use those bad times as inspiration to better not only myself but the people I come across, by sharing my experiences and how I achieved my accomplishments.
My parents could always agree on one thing, "education comes first", so no matter what was going on in my life, I should still get good grades.This huge requirement of me and my difficult situations taught me how to handle anything. It gave me Inner Strength.
In the end I am grateful for everything my family has done for me. My dad made me stronger by dealing with his wavering personalities. My mom has made me independent and caring. And even my sister, she's made me more patient (though, I'm still working on that). Without them I wouldn't be half the person I am today and I think I turned out pretty well.
