Personal Biography

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Jenna Swanson. September 22,2015. Period 1. As a child who grew up with my mother raising me and my sister single-handedly, and my father being gone because of his job, I would say that these circumstances definitely shaped me dramatically and how I aspire to become self confident and being able to stand on my own two feet anywhere life leads me to. By the time my sister was born, my parents’ marriage was coming to an end and they divorced shortly after my sister was born. For years my sister and I were passed between our mom and our dad on a weekly cycle. It was a fair divorce afterwards, when the fighting died down and they could treat each other with mutual respect. My sister and I were blessed without the knowledge of the misfortunes…show more content…
Army. At first we were content with the idea because that meant our dad was bound to become a real life hero instead of the one we already imagined our dad to be. This fantasy we came up with was that he would take us all around the country, from base to base, and show us all 50 states while he protected whatever base we were on. My sister and I liked neglecting the fact that our parents were divorced, so our imaginations ran wild during bedtime. In reality our mom raised us single handedly when our dad was in the Army. She was my first hero. Already being a single mom, she also had to go to school at the local community college and we had to live with my grandmother. My mom had so much weight on her shoulders, I know it took a lot of strength and perseverance. She has always encouraged me to be wise and strong-minded. This continued even when our dad was sent off to be a combat medic in Iraq. We hadn’t seen our dad for nine or so months, and in that time we received calls or letters with silly doodles that reminded us how much we longed for the day he would return home. I remember the days when my mom would hide her tears when we all huddled around the TV watching the most current news on The Iraq War. I vaguely remember them reporting a frightening loss of soldiers. I also remember my mom praying it wasn’t our dads’ platoon. Luckily it never was his
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