Narrative Essay Sample: Moving From Ireland to The United States

📌Category: Experience, Life
📌Words: 1622
📌Pages: 6
📌Published: 28 January 2022

Ireland. A country that is 0.71% the size of the U.S. But will forever hold a bigger place in my heart. A country where all my family is, where my favorite chocolate is made, and where the best tasting tap water comes from. A country I moved from at the age of eight. Up until last year, I had spent half my life in Ireland and half my life in America. 

My family and I moved to the U.S. on June 27, 2011, around ten years ago. I remember when my parents first brought up the idea of moving to the U.S. We obliviously still lived in Ireland, and they had brought me and my two younger sisters to Sandymount Strand, a beach just along the coast of Dublin Bay. At the time I was about 7 years old, and my sisters were three and one. And the only thing I knew or associated with the U.S. was High School Musical and Hannah Montana from Disney Channel. I don’t remember exactly how they brought up the question, but they probably said something along the lines of “ what would you guys think,” or “how would you feel if we moved to America?”. Of curse at the time with High School Musical and Hannah Montana being the only thing I knew about the U.S., I replied with “If we moved could I be a cheerleader, just like in High School Muscial!?”. My parents laughed and said yes. But now that I think about it, what kind of response were they expecting from a seven, three, and one year old? That quick conversation is as much as I can remember about being asked about or even talking about moving to the U.S. 

What's next in my memory, is my mom and I telling my first year (first grade in the U.S.) teacher that I would be moving to the U.S. & then having a goodbye party a couple of days later in class. I remember my mom and I going to the store and buying a chocolate cake with chocolate smarties (similar to M&Ms) on top. Then going to school the next day with my chocolate cake and telling my friends/classmates that I won’t be going to second year with them, but instead that I would be moving to the U.S. I honestly don’t remember crying or being emotional at all. I think I was probably just excited to eat the chocolate cake. At my last Irish dancing competition after school, my best friend and I got to go to Johnyrockets. We sat at a booth and played with the jukebox on the wall while sharing a huge milkshake since it was the last time we would be able to see each other. 

Occasionally I like to go through old pictures, items, and schoolwork from Ireland. One of my school packets was kept. It had a bright orange cover with the words “My first Class Memory Book 2010 - 2011… Kerri Hyland”  in bold on the cover page. It was about ten pages, and each page had a different fill-in-the-blank sentence at the top with a blank space to draw a picture at the bottom. It was held together with six stables going down the left side, so it would open like a book. One of the pages was titled “How I Wish!!”, and there were two questions. The first question was “I wish I was able to _____ (blank)”, I wrote, “I wish I was able to fly.”,  and drew a picture of a fairy. The second question was “I wish I didn’t have to ______ (blank)”,  I wrote, “I wish I didn’t have to go to America.”, and drew a picture of a very bright orange airplane, with a green shamrock on one of the wings, and a person, I assume is me, looking out the one airplane window with a sad face. I thought this was funny, but also interesting because I have no recollection of feeling upset about having to move to America, until the actual day we left. 

The day that we left was an emotional rollercoaster, more for my parents than for me of course. We had everything packed and ready to go the night before. The next morning, we got dressed in our matching white Hello Kitty t-shirts, navy striped jackets, and red with white polka dots shorts. We went over to our nana’s house to have one last Irish breakfast and say goodbye to everyone. Family, Mom's and Dad's side, and friends were crammed to my Nana’s tiny Irish house. My Nana gave my sisters and me three tiny, travel-size suitcases. Each one with a different design on the front. I had the Disney princess suitcase and my sisters got Peppa pig and Minnie mouse. The suitcases had a few coloring books with crayons and markers in them. I remember my nana had given something extra and said “ You have this since you are a little older than the other two.” Funny thing is, I have no clue what she gave me, maybe it was a harder coloring book or a new D.S. game. 

Sadly it was time to go. Once we got to the airport, everyone said their goodbyes, giving extra long and tight hugs, trying to contain the build-up of tears in their eyes. Others began to leave, but close family and friends stayed with us through check-in, then until we had to go up the escalator to security. My aunt was an employee with the airlines so she was able to stay with us longer than the other family members. But the last place the rest could go through was security. 

Up until this point, I hadn’t shed a tear. I don’t think  I had fully wrapped my head around what this day meant, what this move meant, not just for me but for my family. Airport security was furthest my Nana was able to walk with us and this was the first time I had seen my dad cry. And I mean really cry. I was saying goodbye to my nana, but he was saying goodbye to his mother, his mom. This is when I began to realize what this move meant. We would be moving 4,441 miles away from the only family I knew. Going to a new country, knowing no one or nothing about it. Not being able to casually go across the street to see my nana and grandad. Not being able to have sleepovers at my aunt's house or even just be around the rest of my family anymore. In Ireland, family is pretty much everything. They are the people you see the most, the people you talk to the most, the people you hang out with the most. There and then 8 year old me had just realized all of this. I was never going to be with my family anymore… 

I began crying and crying. I didn’t want to leave, I wanted to stay. I wanted to wake up and pretend that this was all just a bad dream. But it wasn’t a bad dream it was reality. And right now reality sucked! 

We went through security red-nosed and damped eyes just to say goodbye to the last person who was able to through the airport with us this long. My aunt. My aunt was and still is my favorite person, so this was extremely hard. When I realized this would be the last time I would be able to hug my aunty, the realization fully set in, and the tears began to burn my eyelids and the side of my face as they rolled down my cheeks. I was saying goodbye to my favorite person, I balled and balled, not wanting to let go. My mom somehow managed to pull me off her and said “that everyone will be able to visit once we get settled in America, so don’t worry.” Waving our final goodbyes and wiping the tears and snots from my face we walked away from our family and through the glass sliding doors to our gate. 

Then a smile and laugh began to appear on everyone's face. We were by ourselves, walking to our gate when the best time accident happened. It made everyone's drowsy, long face light up with laughter. That morning my mom had dressed my sisters and me in head-to-toe matching outfits, white Hello Kitty t-shirts, navy striped jackets, and red with white polka dots shorts. As we were walking to our gate everyone was silent. My younger sister had begun to walk a little ahead of us, looking up at the designs on the airport walls she stops in the middle of the airport, still a few feet ahead of us. Then all of a sudden her bright red and white polka dot shorts fall to the floor. Everyone in my family, even a few strangers around us, burst out laughing. It turns out that my mom had mixed up my sister's and I’s shorts that morning. So she was wearing my shorts which were way too big for her, and I was wearing hers. It was perfect timing, everyone was upset and emotional from saying goodbye, and then my sister's shorts drop to her ankles in the middle of the airport, just what we needed to lighten the mood. 

Two eight-hour plane rides later and we are in Texas, U.S.A... Ten years later, and I am a junior at Allen High School, and not so depressed about living in America. Turns out that it wasn’t that bad. Occasionally family comes to visit us, or we will visit them for the holidays. Although it was rocky at first, I did end up making friends at school, I joined the local swim and was able to make varsity as a freshman of High School. I began to like living in America. Even though I was not able to become a cheerleader, as promised, and High School is nothing like High School Musical or Hannah Montana made it seem. I still love and appreciate everything that I have and can do now that I live in the U.S. And I am so grateful that my parents made, probably one of the hardest decisions of their lives, so that my sisters and I could have a better life filled with more opportunities and advantages in the U.S.

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