My Role in the Family
My Role in the Family
Every man and woman, boy and girl, possesses a certain role within their family. Despite the frequently used titles of sister or daughter, my role in the family delves much deeper than that; I am more than just a daughter to my mother, a sister to my elder sibling, and the baby of the family; I bring a sense of comfort, comedy, and completion to it. I am the confidant, the best friend, and the final child who completes the family to a satisfactory degree. My role of the sarcastically funny and unconditionally loving baby of the family is evident in the slightly disheveled, lived-in appearance of our home, in the values held by my half-Turkish, half-American family, and in the relations between the four of us.
Walking down the tree-lined driveway, trees planted by my parents when they first moved into our ranch-style house, the sight that greets me every day after school is a great comfort. In the summer, beautiful flowers, planted by my mother and I, decorate the planters in front of the house. At night, both the bay window in the living room and my bedroom window flicker welcomingly with twinkle lights and glisten with gel-clings that change based on the season. After school, the front door stands open in wait of my imminent return. Stepping through the door and kicking off my dirty shoes onto a shoe mat, the living room, newly renovated with a large, in-your-face entertainment center, soft couches that provide an excellent place for a nap, and a plush carpet that tickles bare feet in warm weather, waits. This room is one of my favorites, as it screams for visitors to sit, get comfortable, and stay for a while.
My backpack lands on the floor, my coat on the couch, and anything else gets deposited onto the coffee table, along with any other items that have made their way into our living room and have been forgotten to be put away. On the days that my mother decides to make cookies, the scent wafts over the island overlooking this room, and
Every man and woman, boy and girl, possesses a certain role within their family. Despite the frequently used titles of sister or daughter, my role in the family delves much deeper than that; I am more than just a daughter to my mother, a sister to my elder sibling, and the baby of the family; I bring a sense of comfort, comedy, and completion to it. I am the confidant, the best friend, and the final child who completes the family to a satisfactory degree. My role of the sarcastically funny and unconditionally loving baby of the family is evident in the slightly disheveled, lived-in appearance of our home, in the values held by my half-Turkish, half-American family, and in the relations between the four of us.
Walking down the tree-lined driveway, trees planted by my parents when they first moved into our ranch-style house, the sight that greets me every day after school is a great comfort. In the summer, beautiful flowers, planted by my mother and I, decorate the planters in front of the house. At night, both the bay window in the living room and my bedroom window flicker welcomingly with twinkle lights and glisten with gel-clings that change based on the season. After school, the front door stands open in wait of my imminent return. Stepping through the door and kicking off my dirty shoes onto a shoe mat, the living room, newly renovated with a large, in-your-face entertainment center, soft couches that provide an excellent place for a nap, and a plush carpet that tickles bare feet in warm weather, waits. This room is one of my favorites, as it screams for visitors to sit, get comfortable, and stay for a while.
My backpack lands on the floor, my coat on the couch, and anything else gets deposited onto the coffee table, along with any other items that have made their way into our living room and have been forgotten to be put away. On the days that my mother decides to make cookies, the scent wafts over the island overlooking this room, and