by Tabitha Easley

Created on: June 21, 2008

The smell of salt in the air, the wind in my face, and eating a frozen

snickers bar while sitting on a towel in the sand next to my mom on the

beach. Like many others, I come from a broken home, my parents divorced

when I was twelve years old. Even though they no longer lived together,

and my brother stayed with my dad and my mom took me with her, they

did their best to keep me comfortable in the situation.

There are several memories I have of when the whole family was together,

but the ones that stick out the most are the ones that were made after my

parents divorced.

I would spend the weekends with my father and we would get up early

and go to the local flea market, making our way through the crowd while

looking at all the things the vendors had to offer. On the way home he

would pull through the drive-thru of Krystals and order lunch. After getting

our lunch, we turned up the radio and sang along to bands like Poison and

Def Leppard while eating our hamburgers. On Saturday nights before going

home we would pop a big bowl of popcorn and enjoy a movie.

When the weekend was over, I packed my bags and waited for my mom

to pick me up. As we pulled out of the driveway, I would hang my head out

of the window and yell, "See ya next weekend, dad!" As I waved until I

couldn't see his house anymore. Weekends with my dad were always fun, I

looked forward to gong every Friday afternoon.

During the week I would attend school, come home and do my

homework, then walk to Friendly's Restaurant where my mom was a

waitress. After walking about a mile, I would go in and sit down at the ice

cream bar and my mom would fix me a root beer float with extra whipped

cream on top. While waiting for her shift to end, I would slowly drink my

float and watch her as she interacted with the customers, always greeting

them with a warm friendly smile. On her days off we would pack a bag and

grab a couple of lounge chairs and head to the beach.

I have a lot of family memories, but these are among my most favorite.

Coming from a broken home doesn't mean there are not a lot wonderful

family memories to be made. My mom passed away in July of 1998 of

cancer, but I can still see her sitting next to me on the beach as the waves

hit the shoreline and the wind blew in our face.

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