You wouldn’t believe it, but my mom struggled being a single mother. With her staying back in the United States, she turned to (Grandma, but a pseudonym name Angel) Angel and (Grandpa, but a pseudonym name of Big J) for help. Angel helped Mom find this little cabin in the woods.
I have only one memory of this cabin, it’s faint but pointed. I remember having to ride a ways down an unpaved road to get there. I remember mom picking me up out of my car seat and setting me on the ground feet first. I can remember the the rusted swing set that my brother and I loved to play on. That day, it must of been mid fall looming onto winter. I remember having mittens on my hands while copying my brother throw wet turned leaves into the air. I can remember the his distinct giggle and grunt he made when he noticed I was playing too, It must be a simbling thing, wanting to play but wanting not to play with the annoying little sister. I can remember him yelling at me, telling me to go inside and leave him alone. Please keep in mind he was no older than six at the time, and I was younger than two. It made me sad, so mom scooped me up and took me inside.
This cabin was more like a one-bedroom shack with a singular wall that divided the bedroom/living room and the kitchen.
It was cozy until that fateful day, the day of the accident. That day changed everything.
Obstacles of Love 