Suiting up in the Eleventh Hour; What the Moment Calls for

Suiting up in the Eleventh Hour; An inevitable Event
The end is only just the beginning. After 15 years of living in confusion and turmoil I could see that the hardest part of leaving the past was deciding what not to take with me. You could throw away every journal, diary and photo album you ever had even leave your home but when it all comes down to it no matter what you leave or throw away you’re taking your memories with you. One of the hardest things I ever had to go through was my parents’ divorce.
Growing up I was naive to a lot of things. Sitting in my living room, no more than five years old my dad would come home from work and go straight to his room. Being as little as I was I would think “maybe he didn’t see me I am short and small”. Something like that so minute could later on conclude I did not have an affectionate father. Back then I got very little attention from my father; it was like he had no time. Both my parents worked hard and I can now appreciate that today than opposed to back then.
Most of the time my aunt would look after me when my older sisters where in school. When she got pregnant with my cousin Jessica I was more of a help. “Keilah could you please bring the clothes basket in here” Her tone was so mellow, I was always happy to help. The smell of laundry detergent filled the room as the clothes washed. That smell can bring back old memories. Being a mother made my aunt brighter but just for a little while. Years later I found out she could never pass the bar exam to get into law school. Only then did things in her family make sense; the lack of joy and happiness. As you become of age more things are revealed to you. Understanding is what I lacked as a child but it was okay because I gained it eventually.
Countless nights at home I would hear my parents fighting in