"Mί Vida, Mί Futuro" by Hennessy V

The smell of salted cucumbers and homestyle gorditas surrounded me. While my mother was working at Western Jeans and my father working in construction, my two abuelas took the biggest task by raising me while my parents worked full-time to supply me with the future they never had. I would wake up to them in the kitchen preparing arroz con leche, huevos rancheros, gorditas, and bacon. All prepared for what seemed to be a party of 20 when in reality is was usually just my brother and I. I cannot stress enough on my abuelitas achieving a huge task by raising me considering I was more than a handful witnessing a man getting stabbed with an ice pick, my mom was determined to get me out of Los Angeles and fulfill her wish of providing me with a blessed education. As a result to my parents’ disagreements and differences upon where my brother and I should be raised, my mother, brother, and I moved to my other grandma’s backhouse until we had raised enough to buy our own house. Around the same time my mom was working overtime, she met my soon-to-become father, Cesar. He was everything we needed; love, care, laughter, and support. All which was found in our family however, knowing I would have a man to love me wholeheartedly as if I was his own. He supported me at my ballet recitals, changing my sheets when I would have an “accident,” or comforting me when I got bullied at school. Don’t get me wrong, my father loved my brother and I unconditionally; however, he had faced some setbacks that restricted him from us being in his lives as much as we were.

Two baby sisters and a wedding later, we moved to our very first home in Pomona. The transition from constant police sirens down the streets and tragedy to a welcoming neighborhood that became a second family to me has to be one of the most appreciative experiences in my lifetime. As things appeared as perfect as could be, my family and I received tragic news of my father, Ismael Verduzco Jr. He died on a tragic night of April 12, 2005. Unaware of what was going on or what actually occurred to result to such a tragedy changed my perspective of my own life and lead me to feel regretful. Running into that hospital as my mother clenched my hand and with tears in her eyes, she told me, “Be strong for daddy.” To this day, I do not know which father she was referring to. However, I lived with this burden that I lost the opportunity to welcome my biological father into my life. I lived with the idea that I needed to make everyone around me happy; my mother, Cesar, my brother and sisters, and my teachers. Nevertheless, I grew to understand that my happiness is what is most evident. Understanding the hard effort my parents overcame to provide my brother, sisters, and I with a great education and childhood have grown within me and contributed to my passion for assisting others and experiencing many cultures that make our world. I pray to God that my father has forgiven me and is proud of my accomplishments. In addition, my mother’s wish became a reality and has impacted my aspirations in returning the favor to my parents by taking advantage of the academic opportunities I am given to pursue my dream by assisting those in poverty and experiencing new cultures, ideas, and perspectives in literature.