Traumatic Childhood Event
Traumatic Childhood Event
I am to write a traumatic childhood event that taught me about human nature per my professor “Mr. Roycraft”. Yet the loss of my father especially since I never lived with him is a trauma of a life time that has taught me “desperation”, when loss of life is inevitable.
My parents got divorced, when I was three years old. I was given to my mother by court. My father had visitation rights that he never used. It was rather like, if I had a restraining order against him. I always force myself to remember him, but it is so hard because there are only a few memories of him. My mother got remarried when I was 9. In between the ages of 3 and 9, I have seen my father three times. No matter how much my mother begged him in discreet from me, he did not have the desire to see his first, last and only child. I knew this as I was growing up. It was very sad in the beginning, then due to human nature I assume, I learned to accept and forgive.
I was 17 and had no clue, where he lives. He was married to his third wife, my mother being the first one. I decided to see him on my own that year. I asked my mother couple times and she got upset with me. I knew that if I ask her again, her being very upset with his irresponsible behavior towards me, that she was going to object. Also; I was going to deal with the consequences of being a traitor towards her, by wishing to still see my father, as he never cared for me. Yet my mother was the one who raised me up. She went to medical school, worked full time, took care of me and the house and always cooked homemade food from scratch, everyday of my life for me. I never had to eat frozen or fast food growing up. I can never pay back to this wonderful woman. She has been a warrior, best friend and my hero. So to make it short, I left my home with a letter addressed to my mother advising that I am going away for a while and she is a great mother, yet I need to be on my own. I went to Istanbul from Ankara (the capital city of Turkey), which is 280 miles. That morning when I was pretending to leave for school, I kissed my little brother, mom and my sweet step-dad who basically raised me up. The guilt was horrible. At the time, I thought that I am never going to see them again, because I am leaving very indecent. Well, I took the first bus and in 5 hours I was on the bridge connecting Asia to Europe, the great city of Byzantine Istanbul. I knew the street they lived on “Baghdad Street”. I was on a 5 mile long best street of Istanbul, clueless of their address. I decide to walk find the condominium they lived in. All I could remember was the brick groundskeeper house in front of the condominium. When I was 5 and spending time with my granny, my father had other things to do as usual, I cut my feet right by the brick house by stepping on a light bulb. Anyway, I found the house after 2 hours of walk, walked to the building read the names of the residents. I was so glad to find my last name along with my grandmothers first name on the list. After 20 minutes of strong praying, I rang the bell and heard her voice through the dufone. “Ipek, sweetie come up breakfast is ready getting cold!” Then I saw this tiny sweet woman, just like I remembered her when I was 8. She kissed me, hugged me and called my mother. She said that; my mother decided since I was a responsible girl unlike my