Ryan Martinez

Period 6
Oh, I remember when Father always reminded me to focus in the future
because the past was written already, but all I can think of is the past.
My most fond memory is of riding horses with my father out in the fields. I
was 14 when I rode for the first time, and Father was by my side. He ensured
I sat correctly and knew the proper gestures for the reigns. Fortunately, I
managed to travel in circles without falling off, but it was a learning
experience of overcoming my fear overcoming a fear that matters to me
most. He always persevered in convincing. He had that patience that served
as a motivation. He was my teacher. Maybe that is why I admired him so
much.
For nearly 20 years, I have been in the mission of educating others because I
believe everyone should have access to it more my father taught me other
than riding horses. I have motivated others to pursue education and a
change in their lives, but who is there to motivate me now? Who can I rely on
helping me accept this new reality?
When Mother died, 8 years ago, I was not even in Astana, my hometown
our hometown in Kazakhstan. Salima, my sister, had moved to Europe and
married off. Father only had me then, and I only had him. We became each
others pillar and foundation, and together we were able to rise up from the
mourning and continue building, more than ever, on each others ideas. But
who do I rise up with this time?
Salima came as soon as she knew. Despite the distance, we shared sorrow
and sentiment. My mother was our mother, and my father our father. She
regretted not coming back as often as Father desired. I regret not giving him
the family he so much hoped to see from his oldest. I always told him, I will
start a family when I feel I am ready. But the clock ran out and I had just felt
ready.