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Monday, June 9, 2014

A Thinking of My Family: I Try to Be Honest so I Write

I am happy I was born as the first children in my family. I am happy to have parents like mom and dad. I am happy to have one sister who is 2 years younger than me and one brother whose age is almost 17.

My father is a big man. He got a big body also a big mind. He is a strong-willed person with big ambitions. But he never knows that in this world a man could never be so right. The world often beats him down but he tells me to never lose hopes. I love my father though he told me that he has failed to be a good father for our family. I love him though his words have placed us in the cruelest trouble of world but my father still could fulfill the time with laughs at when we watch our favorite sports together at home. My father does not bring my family a good fortune but for me he is that fortune. He is the father, the pride, my superhero.

My mother is a strong woman though the tears often rolled down on her cheeks. She is a good wife and a great mother but she does not see the world as same as my father. I love her though she says that I am her wretched girl.  I love my mother though she always denies all my decisions in life but she will ask God in her day-to-night prays to give her daughter the best way in dealing with the life.  My mother is the one that I will never understand. But I love her. She is my most supporter and I will always love her with the most love a woman can give. He is my mother and my angel of the house, my pure love.

My sister is a good girl. She loves God, the family, her friends, and local singer. I love her though she is very lazy to help me cleaning up the dishes but I can be just fine when in the morning she comes and offering me a cup of coffee. I love her though she is easy to make things in the family to be messier but she’ll love to tell us a fine story which makes everything easier. I love her though she easily cries on all problems but she will come as the toughest girl who can help me facing the problem. My sister is not the sweetest but she is the best friend of mine. My sister is not the nicest girl but my world will not be the nicest one without her. My sister is the sister. She is the life, my sunflower, and my happiness.          

My brother is a hard guy. His dream is to own money. I love him though he is very lazy to wake up every morning to go to school but he can safely pick me to the bus shelter in a very early Sunday morning. I love him though he is cruel in never replying me any messages but he will sit beside me on one evening to teach me the Oasis song and will pleasantly hear my guitar plays. I love him though he does not pay attention to my advice but he will angry to the stranger who annoys me on public. I love him though he has weeds on his pocket and alcohol on his desk but he never treats girl as toy. I love him though his ignorant of the world is the most part of himself but he will frequently ask me on the afternoon, “… then, how’s about mom and dad?” My brother is not the strongest or the weakest. Not the cruelest or the kindest. He is just the human, a growing up man, a boy, my favorite firelight in the cold snow.  

We have been through the hard times, the easy too. Family is a beautiful thing, a honest too. 
We have been through the worst times, the best too. Family is a peaceful thing, a modest too. 



Monicha Nelis, 
Goodnight.

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