One day, he just stopped coming home at all; my mom worried about him, had called him, and just to her surprise a woman answered. He was having an affair, to which in fact she wasn't surprised at all, in fact she had a feeling, and one of those feelings you get in your gut, the ones that never go away, until you uncover the reason for it. She had cried for days, and me being a little four year old, not knowing what to do and seeing my mom hurt, did not help at all. Weeks passed, she had filed for divorce and everything was good, she was good. We had moved back to the city, because she had received news that my grandmother had arrived to the U.S about a year ago. We moved in with her and she welcomed us with open arms. This was where we had our fresh start; she was going to college and working a part-time job, while my grandma watched over me during the day. My father was never involved, and my mother didn't care, she was too proud, is still too proud to ask him for anything; whether it may be child support or to just spend time with me. My mom was and still is both a mother and a father to me; she raised me all by herself (and of course with the help of my grandma here and there). My mom did the best job she could ever do, and it was making me into the person I am today.
Years passed, and I am now 15 years old and a sophomore in High School. My mom is currently working a full-time job as a business manager in sales thanks to her associates & bachelors in accounting and business management. Well and my grandma . . . she wasn't doing so well. She was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's and this was the worst thing that ever happened to me. A few years earlier Grandma started to forget, this was about the time when I was ten years old. At first it was words, her things, her keys etc., but then she started to wander around all confused, not knowing where she was, or if she was dressed or where the toilet was.
