It was dark, cold, and rainy, on top of that, the slush that covered the road made it almost impossible to get home. It was winter break of my sophomore year when my family spontaneously decided to take a trip up the mountains. It was mutually agreed upon that we needed some fresh air, and so we packed nothing but the clothes on our backs and an emergency fifty dollar bill and took off in our ancient Buick.
The car ride was mostly silent, a generic radio host buzzed silently in the background. My sister and I sat on the window seats while my youngest sister sat between us. I gazed intensely out the window, avoiding any awkward conversation with my parents, and allowed myself to become hypnotized by the blurring background.
It had begun over a year ago, the previous winter, around the time we moved into the city. My parents took it to heart that they make it big in a new city, around new people, and most importantly with a new slate. As my father's business took with a slow start, my parents encouraged optimism and continued to work harder than ever. However, by the winter of 2010, my father was left without a job and no source of income. It seemed like every worry and frustration was bottled up until that one moment.
The silence was broken by an instant sound of static; the winds had begun to speed up. It was then that my father had decided to completely break the silence. "The way things are going right now..." He broke off directing the conversation to my mother, but I knew that it was also meant for me. Having been the translator for my parents since the eighth grade, it was almost impossible for my parents to keep me from knowing their finances. The rest of the car ride blurred in my memory.
After two hours of driving, we ended up in a small town hidden deep along the mountain side. Just as the sun was setting, we got out of the car to see the view. For that moment, we forgot about our worries and just stood there. I remember the cool air biting at our skin and the smile on our faces. Looking at the vast mountain scenery suddenly put everything into perspective, and it was then that I slowly began to feel so small yet alive.
We ended up sleeping in the car that night under a clear, starlit night, and it beat renting a cheap motel room, by far.
That trip had changed me. Slowly, I began to mature. Before, everything was about money, and revolved around the idea that it controlled every aspect of our lives. However, seeing my family in such a state gave me new inspiration to change my outlook on life. I realized the importance of keeping a positive out look and also taking the minute worries with a grain of salt. I gained much more than humility and respect, but a common sense to look around once in a while.
The car ride was mostly silent, a generic radio host buzzed silently in the background. My sister and I sat on the window seats while my youngest sister sat between us. I gazed intensely out the window, avoiding any awkward conversation with my parents, and allowed myself to become hypnotized by the blurring background.
It had begun over a year ago, the previous winter, around the time we moved into the city. My parents took it to heart that they make it big in a new city, around new people, and most importantly with a new slate. As my father's business took with a slow start, my parents encouraged optimism and continued to work harder than ever. However, by the winter of 2010, my father was left without a job and no source of income. It seemed like every worry and frustration was bottled up until that one moment.
The silence was broken by an instant sound of static; the winds had begun to speed up. It was then that my father had decided to completely break the silence. "The way things are going right now..." He broke off directing the conversation to my mother, but I knew that it was also meant for me. Having been the translator for my parents since the eighth grade, it was almost impossible for my parents to keep me from knowing their finances. The rest of the car ride blurred in my memory.
After two hours of driving, we ended up in a small town hidden deep along the mountain side. Just as the sun was setting, we got out of the car to see the view. For that moment, we forgot about our worries and just stood there. I remember the cool air biting at our skin and the smile on our faces. Looking at the vast mountain scenery suddenly put everything into perspective, and it was then that I slowly began to feel so small yet alive.
We ended up sleeping in the car that night under a clear, starlit night, and it beat renting a cheap motel room, by far.
That trip had changed me. Slowly, I began to mature. Before, everything was about money, and revolved around the idea that it controlled every aspect of our lives. However, seeing my family in such a state gave me new inspiration to change my outlook on life. I realized the importance of keeping a positive out look and also taking the minute worries with a grain of salt. I gained much more than humility and respect, but a common sense to look around once in a while.