Up and down the isles I went. The 99-cent store was about to close. I turned the corner and came face to face with a frame.

A father and a daughter smiling standing side by side. I reached for the frame and turned it around. Smiling to myself I walked away with an empty void inside my chest.

My father was a brilliant man, but he was a selfish one. He made it very clear that wanted a better life, without us in it.

And off he went, but life wasn’t so easy for a single mother with two daughters.

My mom had a love for math but wasn’t in love with her job. I didn’t realize it until I was 11-years-old. She was sitting on her bed with a sad expression, ready to leave for her night shift at Bank of America. She got her stuff and kissed my head.

She would say to me, “Take care of your sister,” even though my sister was five years older.

My sister and I got along very well. Whenever we would stay home alone, we always took turns cooking, cleaning and showering. When it was time for bed, she turned the lamp on and turned off the room light and said her goodnight.

Even though we moved around a lot, we always tried to look at the positive side of it.

One Saturday afternoon, we found ourselves sitting in a very expensive restaurant. The ceiling was high and had a large chandelier hanging from it. We sat in a large booth that had the capacity to fit eight people, ordering appetizers with three glasses of water.

The waiters moved quickly but quietly around the tables. Some balancing filled plates in their arms and others taking empty plates from different tables.

“You always have to put yourself where you want to be,” my mom would say. “I want you guys to live a life like this.”

At age 16, I developed a very expensive taste in material things, but expensive wasn’t an option when my mom lost her job. Rent wasn’t being met and living in Monterey Park was becoming impossible.

The idea of moving to Hawthorne wasn’t part of the plan and the idea had me and my sister rebelling against it. We had established a life that took nearly eight years to create and now it was being taken from us.

My friends, who I’ve known for eight years. My Neighbors, who I’ve known by name. And the neighborhood that had become a never-ending cycle of hopscotch.

Taking little Jumps from apartment to apartment in Monterey park, but the game has changed.

And if moving wasn’t enough, my mom had the greatest idea. Changing her career to become a teacher. Too many sacrifices in such a short period of time. I was worried for my future and for myself.

My mom said, “I’m tired of being miserable, I want to do something more with my life.”

Six years later, she leaves for work with a smile on her face. As a teenager, if I would have known she was going to be this happy, I wouldn’t have been so against it. It took her so long for to leave a job she hated for a job she’s always wanted.

Sacrifice was needed for her to be happy. And even if I wasn’t supportive, she still had the power to believe in herself.