Marine’s Story
Ever since my dad remarried I had been constantly asking him and my stepmom for them to give me a little sister or brother. And on December 31st, 1993 my little brother Quentin was born. I was ecstatic and couldn’t wait to go visit my dad so I could finally meet him. I was six years old, pretty young, but I was still allowed to hold him in my arms as long as I was seated. I still have a picture of that day, the day I sat on my grandparents couch with my little Quentin in my arms and a huge smile on my face. I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. I was so happy and so proud to have a little brother. I remember how sad I was when my vacation ended and I had to go back to my mom and say goodbye to my beautiful, precious little brother. I also remember feeling jealous that my cousins who lived in the same area as my dad where probably going to get to see him more often then me… When I got back home and returned to school there was only one subject on my mind, and that’s all I would talk about: Quentin.