For most students, summer conjures images of inviting blue skies, the smell of freshly cut grass, the warm night breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckle in its wake, but these are nothing more that descriptions in the encyclopedia to me. My summers have been filled with long white hallways, dimly lit bedrooms, and the smell of sawdust. My summers warmth came from within.
The majority of my summer's have been spent like those of most other kids my age: with those close to me. But unlike most other children who spent their time exploring woods with their friends or swimming with their neighbors, my time was spent at a bedside, caring for my sick mother and grandfather. It fell to me to cook for them, administer their medications, clean up after them, and keep them comfortable while still supporting myself. Perhaps the best thing I gave them though was a person to talk to The reward for that was great. My mother worked so often that I normally never had more than a shallow dialogue with her, but for during those feverish months we had some of our first intimate conversations. She gave me insight into who my father used to be and how he had become what he was. My grandfather, on the other hand, transfixed me for hours with his stories about running away from Father Flanagan's orphanage at 17 to join up and his adventures that followed.
Having grown up knowing the harshness of going nights without a home, I dedicated my summer Saturdays to volunteering at Habitat for Humanity builds. Over the course of my years volunteering, I've built homes for nurses at St. Jude Children's Hospital, my high school custodian, and a variety of people who dedicate their time to caring for us. I only sought to return the favor.
During this time, I also partnered with a local nursing home to help reconnect residents with their families using modern technology. The gratitude expressed in the lines of those weathered faces was never lost on me. I still get calls from patients and families alike, and to have made such a difference in the life of even one person humbles me.
Among these responsibilities and pursuits I found little time for leisure, but it was in one of these rare spans of free time that I made one of the most important trips of my life. I visited Princeton. As it happened, that day there was a clear blue sky and the aroma of freshly cut grass filled the air: I had found where I wanted to live and learn for the next four years of my life.
The majority of my summer's have been spent like those of most other kids my age: with those close to me. But unlike most other children who spent their time exploring woods with their friends or swimming with their neighbors, my time was spent at a bedside, caring for my sick mother and grandfather. It fell to me to cook for them, administer their medications, clean up after them, and keep them comfortable while still supporting myself. Perhaps the best thing I gave them though was a person to talk to The reward for that was great. My mother worked so often that I normally never had more than a shallow dialogue with her, but for during those feverish months we had some of our first intimate conversations. She gave me insight into who my father used to be and how he had become what he was. My grandfather, on the other hand, transfixed me for hours with his stories about running away from Father Flanagan's orphanage at 17 to join up and his adventures that followed.
Having grown up knowing the harshness of going nights without a home, I dedicated my summer Saturdays to volunteering at Habitat for Humanity builds. Over the course of my years volunteering, I've built homes for nurses at St. Jude Children's Hospital, my high school custodian, and a variety of people who dedicate their time to caring for us. I only sought to return the favor.
During this time, I also partnered with a local nursing home to help reconnect residents with their families using modern technology. The gratitude expressed in the lines of those weathered faces was never lost on me. I still get calls from patients and families alike, and to have made such a difference in the life of even one person humbles me.
Among these responsibilities and pursuits I found little time for leisure, but it was in one of these rare spans of free time that I made one of the most important trips of my life. I visited Princeton. As it happened, that day there was a clear blue sky and the aroma of freshly cut grass filled the air: I had found where I wanted to live and learn for the next four years of my life.