We have to move again =(

Last Friday afternoon, I was hanging around the house, like any other day I am off from work or school. I heard rustling outside the front door and looked to see what it was. It was someone struggling to tape a piece of paper on our screen door. It was funny at first as I wondered for a second who he was and what he was doing. Then I asked him, "Is there something I can help you with?" This man said, "Yes, actually this is for you and if you call this phone number, I'm sure they can work something out..." As he stepped back while informing me, he took a photo of our house really quick then left.

I took the paper inside to my older sister while glancing at what it could be. We read and noticed a court date. This piece of paper was notice saying our house is foreclosed and the auction is scheduled for October 8, 2009. I couldn't believe it. My older sister and I stood in shock as we reviewed the given information on this piece of paper. She immediatley called our dad. He rushed home from his lunch break at work, and began making phone calls. Because we are not the owners of our home, it was very unfortunate to think we would have to up and leave our house of 5 years because a bank decided to buy it from our owner.

This foreclosure business that is taking place is scary to me. I'm nervous that we will not find a place to live in time. Even if we get an extended 2 months to vacate, Im worried we won't have the money to move in time either for a potential down payment. This is actually not the first time that my family was give a "notice" move, and do it quickly.

I remember when I was in sixth grade, coming home from a day at school and seeing all of our stuff outside: furniture, the t.v, tons of trash bags filled with clothes and toys, the fridgerator, and my mom and dad outside with all that stuff trying to fit it in the only car we had. It was wierd because earlier that day, all that stuff was inside where it belongs. I was only 12 years old. My dad, mom, brother, 3 sisters and dog was being evicted. I didn't know what this meant other then we had to move fast.

After this day, we left our perfect home in North Park and never seen it again. We went from living with a few of my dad's friends for a while, then our grandmas house, then another friends house, and then for about 4 years moving from motel to motel that always had only 2 beds. It took my family years to be approved for housing we qaulified for through section 8, which is a system that financially assists low income families in finding homes. After being approved, we then lived in a studio for about 2 years, then moved into a 2 bedroom apartment where we actually had some type of privacy finally. After living in that 2 bedroom apartment for a while, my dad recieved a promotion and new information on better housing options, and decided to move closer to work in San Ysidro. We were sad but glad to be moving into a 4 bedroom house. It was the most exciting thing we could remember growing up. We thought that this house was a mansion, and we also we were rich.

By the time we moved to what we called a "masion" of 4 bedrooms, I was already in 11th grade getting ready to graduate from high school. My brother and younger sisters were in the middle of grade school. We made friends quickly and to my younger siblings, San Ysidro was where they grew up. They hardly remember the struggle that my older sister and I went through growing up and watching my dad try everything he could to support us and have a good life. It's not financial issues this time. My dad has a steady job, my older sister and I pitch in financially so we don't have issues with paying bills or rent. Instead, after being there for 5 years, the bank buys our home and now they're telling us to get out. It sucks.

After all those year struggling to find a descent neighborhood to grow up in, now we've grown to call San Ysidro our home, it's being taken away. My siblings have made so many friends, and I would hate for them to have to go through what my older sister and I went through moving from here to there not knowing how long we'll live in one place or another. My dad keeps reinforcing that it will be okay and that this time he is better prepared to move then when we were evicted.
My dad is from Brooklyn, New York, so he has a survivor's mentality about things. Going through that hardship years ago have shaped my older sister and I into survivors as well and to be strong during tough times. I just worry because if we don't find a place to live, my little sisters are old enough to know what's going on this time. I want my family to be well off and my siblings to enjoy life like they should.

My financial aid check should be in the mail any day now, and instead if saving it so I can move out on my own, I'll probably give in to my dad towards the downpayment for our next home. I've already mentioned that as a reliable option and he laughed about it and said, "Chrissy that's your money. Hopefully my plan I have will work out and I won't need it." My family is strong and we love eachother dearly.

We're always there for eachother, especially my dad. He's the best dad in the world. when my parents divorced, he raised 5 children (4 girls and 1 boy), never gave up on hope, and always had food on the table, clothes on our back and a roof over our head. It's not too common that the father of the 1 parents stand that strog through tough times. But my dad did. I know everything will be okay because God is on our side. Another thing I have learned throughout the years that have made me the young lady I am today is that it's not the location that makes it a home, it's the love and unity you have among the people living there. Where ever we move next, it will have just as much love as those motels, the studio, the apartment, and the 4 bedroom house did.