Sophia Mele
ENG 100 Assignment #1 Final Draft Assignment #1: Hiraeth Narrative Thursday February 4th, 2010 at 2:00, I was shaking uncontrollably and started to have an anxiety attack, the doctor grabbed me a brown paper bag to breathe in and out of, but nothing worked. I just kept looking at her trying to make myself believe that it wasn’t real. All I wanted her to do was open her bright blue eyes and say I love you and hug me one more time. This was the day and time when my world was flipped upside down and my heart was forever torn. Nobody could ask for a more beautiful winter morning, the air was crisp and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. As I awoke on this mysterious morning, my whole body felt anything but ordinary. I ran into my parents room with tears rolling down my face and demanded to stay home from school that day. They questioned why I was crying and I said “ it’s going to happen today, I need to be with her”. They didn't believe me at first and they did not want to take me out of school another day, but nothing they said stuck with me, I had to stay home. You might question who is this “her”, she is my grandmother, my beautiful, full-of-life grandmother, Esther. This is the woman who made my days worth while, especially Mondays and Tuesdays. Mondays would be roast pork with Texas Toast on the side and Tuesdays would be pasta or escarole soup, but both days ended in fudge pops. Which my father never approved of but secretly would eat most of them. Whenever I would open her freezer I would count on a box of fudge pops just waiting there for me and my brother. The funny thing is, she hated the pops, but we loved them. Even though Monday’s and Tuesday’s were for the family, I spent most of my weekdays at my nana’s while my mom and dad were at work, her house was my second home, but she was my first Then as the years went by the pops weren't stocked as usual, and I knew something was wrong. I’ll never forget the time she told me she was sick with kidney failure, we were in her living room and she was rubbing my legs telling me she was selling her house. I was so taken back I didn't know how to react, when I asked why she told me she was sick and that she was moving in with us. I asked how sick and she responded with her head down so I knew this wasn't good, I was excited for her to live with us, but for the wrong reasons. She started out with kidney failure and then to congestive failure which ultimately lead to organ failure. She slept in the room next to me and every night I would hear her painfully moan in her sleep so I would check on her to make sure she was ok. It killed me a little every day to see her in so much pain. The dialysis was helping and we thought we were on the road to recovery but, ended up right back at square one. Sadly, but funny enough we became friends with the paramedics due to the amount of times they came to my house to pick her up. As the months went by and the pain grew bigger my parents decided to place her in hospice and relieve her of her pain. I selfishly did not agree because I wanted her around as much as possible, but in the long run it made the most sense. I didn’t want my nana living the rest of her life watching the amount of fluid she has to drink in order for her to breathe, and coughing up blood on the hour. That’s no way to live she deserved to rest and she deserved to be at peace. That morning, I have no idea what it was but there was something telling me that today was the day that she would pass. My parents thought she had another week or more left in her but with my certainty about this they decided to keep me home from school. My mother and I got everything ready at the house in order to stay at hospice all day. By noon, were on our way. All I recall seeing on the drive there was a giant Walmart to my right and my god it really was such a perfect day outside. As we arrived we both rushed right to her room, up the elevator and through the hallway we went, it was always so quite I felt awkward even coughing. As we walked in, we saw my uncle sitting beside her bed with his head down. I walk to the other side of her bed and held her hand. She was unresponsive at the time but she definitely had an idea of what was going on. I immediately turned on the TV to release the depressing and awkward tension in the room with my uncle and while I was scrolling through and something happened. The introduction of the show Reba started to play and I felt my nana squeeze my hand just the slightest bit, it was her favorite show so I knew to keep it on. After watching an episode or two I decided I was getting bored so of course my first instinct was eat or drink something. I ended up making a cup hot chocolate, there weren't a lot of options in the kitchen it was mostly just coffee, tea, hot chocolate and some stale cookies. As I was walking back to her room I made a quick pit stop to the bathroom to take a good look at myself, breathe, be alone, and gather my thoughts, I was thinking about the times we used to dance and laugh together, the times we used to go to the toy isle of Walgreens and buy silly toys for me, and the never ending boxes of fudge pops and Texas Toast all coming to an end. Did we all think she had at least another 10 years in her? Absolutely! But God had other plans for her, and we all had to understand that. While I was washing my hands I looked up at the mirror and my mother knocked on the door, came in and said “I am going to the bank really fast, I will be right back I promise, I love you”. She kissed me and left. I started walking back to my nana’s room as I was stirring the steam out of the cup with my straw. When my foot stepped over the entrance at the door I stopped saw the doctor sitting across her bed and my uncle across from him, looking down with his eyes closed, and shaking his head, it was 2 o’clock. It was like a truck just landed on my chest and my body went pure cold. I immediately dropped the filled hot cup into the trash and ran over to her and started to cry. This wasn't just an upset cry, this was a rip your heart out, stomach pit, kick you in the face cry. I had so many feelings I didn't know what to do with myself. I was shaking uncontrollably and started to have an anxiety attack, the doctors grabbed me a brown paper bag to breathe in and out of, but nothing worked. I just kept looking at her trying to make myself believe that it wasn’t real. All I wanted her to do was open her bright blue eyes and say I love you and hug me one more time. My uncle was in shock but decided to call my mother while she was gone and tell her the tragic news. I still remember hearing her screaming and the panic in her voice, knowing that she was not with me during this time. I held on to my nana’s hand for dear life and I never wanted to let go. My uncle saw my devastation and hugged me for literally 20 minutes until my mother arrived. When she did, her eyes were as red as mine. I mean, at that moment what else can you do but cry? This day was the worst most memorable days of my life. You can maybe see this as a bad way to remember her, but this is the story of how my home, my soul, was taken away from me; someone I can never return too. People live and die knowing that something in their life has a purpose and a home to return too, but I say not where but who. I miss her smile, I miss her hair, I miss her hugs, everything about that woman was pure gold in my eyes and Ill always wonder why she was taken from me at such a young point in my life, I always ask for her help because I know she's watching me and listening to me and guiding me with everything I do. The connection I had with her was like no other. She made me smile with everything she did, and brought light to my day. Surprisingly, It has been 7 years since her passing and I still feel like that day was yesterday . I feel her presence immensely in certain situations, I know she is watching over me and guiding me always. No one will understand completely how I feel her presence but that’s okay. If I feel her, she's there.
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Thursday February 4th, 2010 at 2:00, this was the day and time when my world was flipped upside down and my heart was broken. It was a beautiful winter morning, the air was crisp and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. As I awoke on this memorable morning, my whole body felt anything but ordinary. I ran into my parents room with tears rolling down my face and demanded to stay home from school that day. They questioned why I was crying and I said “ it’s going to happen today, I need to be with her”. They didn't believe me at first and they did not want to take me out of school another day, but nothing they said stuck with me, I had to stay home. You might question who is this “her”, she is my grandmother, my beautiful, full of life grandmother.
This is the woman who made my days worth while, especially Mondays and Tuesdays. Mondays would be roast pork with Texas Toast on the side and Tuesdays would be pasta or escarole soup, but both days ended in fudge pops. Which my father never approved of but secretly would eat most of them. Whenever I would open her freezer I would count on a box of fudge pops just waiting there for me and my brother. The funny thing is, she hated the pops, but we loved them. Even though Monday’s and Tuesday’s were for the family, I spent most of my weekdays at my nana’s while my mom and dad were at work, her house was my second home, but she was my first Then as the years went by the pops weren't stocked as usual, and I knew something was wrong. Ill never forget the time she told me she was sick, we were in her living room and she was rubbing my legs telling me she was selling her house. I was so taken back I didn't know how to react, when I asked why she told me she was sick and that she was moving in with us. I asked how sick and she responded with her head down so I knew this wasn't good, I was excited for her to live with us, but for the wrong reasons. She started out with kidney failure and then to congestive failure which ultimately lead to organ failure. She slept in the room next to me and every night I would hear her painfully moan in her sleep so I would check on her to make sure she was ok. It killed me a little every day to see her in so much pain. The dialysis was helping and we thought we were on the road to recovery but, ended up right back at square one. Sadly, but funny enough we became friends with the paramedics due to the amount of times they came to my house to pick her up. As the months went by and the pain grew bigger my parents decided to place her in hospice and relieve her of her pain. I selfishly did not agree because I wanted her around as much as possible but, in the long run it made the most sense. I didn’t want my nana living the rest of her life watching the amount of fluid she has to drink in order for her to breathe, and coughing up blood on the hour. Thats no way to live, she deserved to rest and she deserved to be at peace. That morning, I have no idea what it was but there was something telling me that today was the day that she would pass. My parents thought she had another week or more left in her but with my certainty about this they decided to keep me home from school. My mother and I got everything ready at the house in order to stay at hospice all day. By noon, were on our way. All I recall seeing on the drive there was a giant Walmart to my right and my god it really was such a perfect day outside. As we arrived we both rushed right to her room, up the elevator and through the hallway we went, it was always so quite I felt awkward even coughing. As we walked in, we saw my uncle sitting beside her bed with his head down. I walk to the other side of her bed and held her hand. She was unresponsive at the time but she definitely had an idea of what was going on. I immediately turned on the TV to release the depressing and awkward tension in the room with my uncle and while I was scrolling through and something happened. The introduction of the show Reba started to play and I felt my nana squeeze my hand just the slightest bit, it was her favorite show so I knew to keep it on. After watching an episode or two I decided I was getting bored so of course my first instinct was eat or drink something. I ended up making a cup hot chocolate, there weren't a lot of options in the kitchen it was mostly just coffee, tea, hot chocolate and some stale cookies. As I was walking back to her room I made a quick pit stop to the bathroom to take a good look at myself, breathe, be alone, and gather my thoughts, I was thinking about the times we used to dance and laugh together, the times we used to go to the toy isle of Walgreens and buy silly toys for me, and the never ending boxes of fudge pops and Texas Toast all coming to an end. Did we all think she had at least another 10 years in her? Absolutely! But God had other plans for her, and we all had to understand that. While I was washing my hands I looked up at the mirror and my mother knocked on the door, came in and said “I am going to the bank really fast, I will be right back I promise, I love you”. She kissed me and left. I started walking back to my nana’s room as I was stirring the steam out of the cup with my straw. When my foot stepped over the entrance at the door I stopped saw the doctor sitting across her bed and my uncle across from him, looking down with his eyes closed, and shaking his head, it was 2 o’clock. It was like a truck just landed on my chest and my body went pure cold. I immediately dropped the filled hot cup into the trash and ran over to her and started to cry. This wasn't just an upset cry, this was a rip your heart out, stomach pit, kick you in the face cry. I had so many feelings I didn't know what to do with myself. I was shaking uncontrollably and started to have an anxiety attack, the doctors grabbed me a brown paper bag to breathe in and out of, but nothing worked. I just kept looking at her trying to make myself believe that it wasn’t real. All I wanted her to do was open her bright blue eyes and say I love you and hug me one more time. My uncle was in shock but decided to call my mother while she was gone and tell her the tragic news. I still remember hearing her screaming and the panic in her voice, knowing that she was not with me during this time. I held on to my nana’s hand for dear life and I never wanted to let go. My uncle saw my devastation and hugged me for literally 20 minutes until my mother arrived. When she did, her eyes were as red as mine. I mean, at that moment what else can you do but cry? This day was the worst most memorable days of my life. You can maybe see this as a bad way to remember her, but this is the story of how my home, my soul, was taken away from me; someone I can never return too. People live and die knowing that something in their life has a purpose and a home to return too, but I say not where but who. I miss her smile, I miss her hair, I miss her hugs, everything about that woman was pure gold in my eyes and Ill always wonder why she was taken from me at such a young point in my life, I always ask for her help because I know she's watching me and listening to me and guiding me with everything I do. The connection I had with her was like no other. She made me smile with everything she did, and brought light to my day. Surprisingly, It has been 7 years since her passing and I still feel like that day was yesterday . I feel her presence immensely in certain situations, I know she is watching over me and guiding me always. Thursday February 4th, 2010 at 2:00, this was the day and time when my world was flipped upside down and my heart was broken. It was a beautiful winter morning, the air was crisp and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. As I awoke on this memorable morning, my whole body felt anything but ordinary. I ran into my parents room with tears rolling down my face and demanded to stay home from school that day. They questioned why I was crying and I said “ it’s going to happen today, I need to be with her”. They didn't believe me at first and they did not want to take me out of school another day, but nothing they said stuck with me, I had to stay home. You might question who is this “her”, she is my grandmother, my beautiful, full of life grandmother.
This is the woman who made my days worth while, especially Mondays and Tuesdays. Mondays would be roast pork with texas toast on the side and Tuesdays would be pasta or escarole soup, but both days ended in fudge pops. Which my father never approved of but secretly would eat most of them. Whenever I would open her freezer I would count on a box of fudge pops just waiting there for me and my brother. The funny thing is, she hated the pops, but we loved them. Even though Monday’s and Tuesday’s were for the family, I spent most of my weekdays at my nana’s while my mom and dad were at work, her house was my second home, but she was my first Then as the years went by the pops weren't stocked as usual, and I knew something was wrong. Ill never forget the time she told me she was sick, we were in her living room and she was rubbing my legs telling me she was selling her house. I was so taken back I didn't know how to react, when I asked why she told me she was sick and that she was moving in with us. I asked how sick and she responded with her head down so I knew this wasn't good, I was excited for her to live with us, but for the wrong reasons. She started out with kidney failure and then to congestive failure which ultimately lead to organ failure. Sadly, but funny enough we were friends with the ambulance people due to the amount of times they came to my house to pick her up. As the years went by and the pain grew bigger my parents decided to place her in hospice and relieve her of her pain. I selfishly did not agree because I wanted her around as much as possible but, in the long run it made the most sense. That morning, I have no idea what it was but there was something telling me that today was the day that she would pass. My parents thought she had another week or more left in her but with my certainty about this they decided to keep me home from school. My mother and I got everything ready at the house in order to stay at hospice all day. By noon, were on our way. All I recall seeing on the drive there was a giant Walmart to my right and my god it really was such a perfect day outside. As we arrived we both rushed right to her room, up the elevator and through the hallway we went, it was always so quite I felt awkward even coughing. As we walked in, we saw my uncle sitting beside her bed with his head down. I walk to the other side of her bed and held her hand. She was unresponsive at the time but she definitely had an idea of what was going on. I immediately turned on the TV to release the depressing and awkward tension in the room with my uncle and while I was scrolling through and something happened. The introduction of the show Reba started to play and I felt my nana squeeze my hand just the slightest bit, it was her favorite show so I knew to keep it on. After watching an episode or two I decided I was getting bored so of course my first instinct was eat or drink something. I ended up making a cup hot chocolate, there weren't a lot of options in the kitchen it was mostly just coffee, tea, hot chocolate and some stale cookies. As I was walking back to her room I made a quick pit stop to the bathroom to take a good look at myself, breathe, be alone, and gather my thoughts, I was thinking about the times we used to dance and laugh together, the times we used to go to the toy isle of Walgreens and buy silly toys for me, and the never ending boxes of fudge pops and Texas Toast all coming to an end. While I was washing my hands I looked up at the mirror and my mother knocked on the door, came in and said “I am going to the bank really fast, I will be right back I promise, I love you”. She kissed me and left. I started walking back to my nana’s room as I was stirring the steam out of the cup with my straw. When my foot stepped over the entrance at the door I stopped saw the doctor sitting across her bed and my uncle across from him, looking down with his eyes closed, and shaking his head, it was 2 o’clock. It was like a truck just landed on my chest and my body went pure cold. I immediately dropped the filled hot cup into the trash and ran over to her and started to cry. This wasn't just an upset cry, this was a rip your heart out, stomach pit, kick you in the face cry. I had so many feelings I didn't know what to do with myself. I was shaking uncontrollably and started to have an anxiety attack, the doctors grabbed me a brown paper bag to breathe in and out of, but nothing worked. I just kept looking at her trying to make myself believe that it wasn’t real. All I wanted her to do was open her bright blue eyes and say I love you and hug me one more time. My uncle was in shock but decided to call my mother while she was gone and tell her the tragic news. I still remember hearing her screaming and the panic in her voice, knowing that she was not with me during this time. I held on to my nana’s hand for dear life and I never wanted to let go. My uncle saw my devastation and hugged me for literally 20 minutes until my mother arrived. This day was the worst most memorable days of my life. You can maybe see this as a bad way to remember her, but this is the story of how my home, my soul, was taken away from me; someone I can never return too. People live and die knowing that something in their life has a purpose and a home to return too, but I say not where but who. The connection I had with her was like no other. She made me smile with everything she did, and brought light to my day. Surprisingly, It has been 7 years since her passing and I still feel like that day was yesterday . I feel her presence immensely in certain situations, I know she is watching over me and guiding me always. Thursday February 4th, 2010 at 2:00, this was the day and time when my world was flipped upside down. It was a beautiful winter morning, the air was crisp and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. As I awoke on this memorable morning, my head and stomach felt anything but ordinary. I ran into my parents room with tears rolling down my face and I demanded to stay home from school that day. They questioned why I was crying and I said “ it’s going to happen today, I need to be with her”. They didn't believe me at first and they did not want to take me out of school another day, but nothing they said stuck with me, I had to stay home. You might question who is this “her”, she is my grandmother, my beautiful, full of life grandmother.
She had been sick for over a year at that point but started out with kidney failure and then to congestive failure which ultimately lead to organ failure. My parents decided to place her in hospice and relieve her of her pain. I selfishly did not agree because I wanted her around as much as possible but, in the long run it made the most sense. That morning, I have no idea what it was but there was something telling me that today was the day that she would pass. My parents thought she had another week or more left in her but with my certainty about this they decided to keep me home from school. My mother and I got everything ready at the house in order to stay at hospice all day. By noon, were on our way. All I recall seeing on the drive there was a giant Walmart to my right and my god it really was such a perfect day outside. As we arrived we both rushed right to her room, up the elevator and through the hallway we went, it was always so quite I felt awkward even coughing. As we walked in, we saw my uncle sitting beside her bed with his head down. I walk to the other side of her bed and held her hand. She was unresponsive at the time but she definitely had an idea of what was going on. I immediately turned on the TV to release the depressing and awkward tension in the room with my uncle and while I was scrolling through and something happened. The introduction of the show Reba started to play and I felt my nana squeeze my hand just the slightest bit, it was her favorite show so I knew to keep it on. After watching an episode or two I decided I was getting bored so my first instinct was eat or drink something. I ended up making a cup hot chocolate, there weren't a lot of options in the kitchen it was mostly just coffee, tea, hot chocolate and some stale cookies. As I was walking back to her room I made a quick pit stop to the bathroom. While I was washing my hands I looked up at the mirror and my mother knocked on the door, came in and said “I am going to Walmart really fast, I will be right back I promise, I love you”. She kissed me and left. I started walking back to my nana’s room as I was stirring the steam out of the cup with my straw. When my foot stepped over the entrance at the door I stopped saw the doctor sitting across her bed and my uncle across from him, looking down, and shaking his head, it was 2 o’clock. It was like a truck just landed on my chest and my body went pure cold. I immediately dropped the filled hot cup into the trash and ran over to her and started to cry. This wasn't just an upset cry, this was a rip your heart out, stomach pit, kick you in the face cry. I had so many emotions I didn't know what to do with myself. I was shaking and I started to have an anxiety attack, the doctors grabbed me a brown paper bag to breathe in and out of, but nothing worked. I just kept looking at her trying to make myself believe that it wasn’t real. All I wanted her to do was open her bright blue eyes and say I love you and hug me one more time. My uncle was in shock but decided to call my mother while she was gone and tell her the tragic news. All I remember hearing her screaming and the panic in her voice, knowing that she was not with her little girl during this time. I held on to my nana’s hand for dear life and I never wanted to let go. My uncle saw my devastation and hugged me for about 20 minutes until my mother arrived. This day was the worst most memorable days of my life. You can maybe see this as a bad way to remember her, but this is the story of how my home, my soul, was taken away from me; someone I can never return too. People live and die knowing that something in their life has a purpose and a home to return too, but I say not where but who. The connection I had with her was like no other, it has been 7 years since her passing and I still feel like that day was yesterday . I feel her presence immensely in certain situations, I know she is watching over me and guiding me always. As I worked on this assignment I decided to talk to my father about it because in fact it was his mother after all; which who I was writing about and, who better to talk to than her son, my dad. My mother also helped along the way because she told me the little things I used to do to help my nana when she was sick. Considering my mom was there with me the day she passed away it would make the most sense to have an open conversation about that day to get the full effect. The most difficult part of this assignment was getting my feelings on paper, the way I felt that day was unexplainable and I had no idea where to begin to get the most out of the readers reaction, but then, I got my flow goin’. As we practiced in class, I free wrote for about 3 pages just rambling on and on about how I was feeling, what I saw and, even what her hand felt like. Slowly but surely I got it down. Now, it obviously isn't perfect and I didn't get every thought down on paper, but I’m getting there. While we were discussing this project, as soon as Sabatino spit the word Hiraeth out there I was automatically inspired. This isn't like any other writing assignment, it gives the writer and opportunity to reach deeper thoughts never imagined. That inspired me, so when I heard what it stood for, I immediately thought of my grandmother and the history I had with her. I started to jot down notes, nothing serious but when the first blog came around I went in! Where did I write this? multiple places at multiple times. In my living room with the bottle of perfume next to me, every time I got stuck I took a little whiff of it and I just kept going, yeah it sounds weird but it really worked. I wrote in my bedroom in the middle of the night sometimes when my mind was just non stop and I just had to write down my thoughts, if I didn't write it I knew I would forget about them the next morning. I chose to write about my nana because she is the only person that passed away that meant more than anything to me and this was an opportunity for me to show how much I adored her and how much I miss her. For future reference I know to have outside feedback, rather than just my intermediate family, because emotion can block constructive criticism. Sometimes in an emotional piece your mind just flows and you think that what your saying, others will understand. That isn't always necessarily the case so it is very helpful to have outside perspective.
Thursday February 4th, 2010 at 2:00, this was the day and time when my world was flipped upside down. It was a beautiful winter morning, the air was crisp and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. As I awoke on this memorable morning, my body and stomach felt anything but ordinary. I ran into my parents room with tears rolling down my face and I demanded to stay home from school that day. They questioned why I was crying and I said “ it’s going to happen today, I need to be with her”. You might question who is this “her”, she is my grandmother. She had been sick for over a year now but, started out with kidney failure and then to congestive failure which ultimately lead to organ failure. My parents decided to place her in hospice and relieve her of her pain. I obviously did not agree because I wanted my grandmother alive but, in the long run it made the most sense. That morning there was something telling me that today was the day that she would pass, but my parents thought she had another week or more left in her. My parents decided to keep me home from school, so my mother and I got everything ready at the house in order to stay at hospice all day. By noon, were on our way. All I recall seeing on the drive there was a giant Walmart to my right. As we arrived we both rushed right to her room, up the elevator and through the hallway we went, as we walked in we see my uncle sitting beside her bed with his head down. I walk to the other side of her bed and hold her hand. She was unresponsive at the time but she had an idea of what was going on. I immediately turned on the TV to release the awkward tension in the room and while I was scrolling through I stopped at the channel of Lifetime. The introduction of the show Reba started to play and I felt my nana squeeze my hand just the slightest bit, it was her favorite show so I knew to keep it on. After watching an episode or two I decided to make some hot chocolate. I made a quick pit stop to the bathroom and while I was washing my hands looking in the mirror my mother knocked on the door, came in and said “I am going to Walmart, I will be right back I promise”. She kissed me and left. I went straight to the kitchen to make myself a cup of hot coco.I was walking back to my nana’s room as I was stirring the steam out of the cup with my straw. When my foot just stepped over the entrance at the door I saw the doctor sitting across her bed and my uncle across from him, looking down, and shaking his head, it was 2 o’clock. I immediately dropped the filled hot cup into the trash and ran over to her and started to cry. This wasn't just an upset cry, this was a rip your heart out, stomach pit, kick you in the face cry. I had so many emotions I didn't know what to do with myself I was shaking and I started to have an anxiety attack, the doctors grabbed me a brown paper bag to breathe in and out of, but nothing worked. I just kept looking at her trying to make myself believe that it wasn’t real. All I wanted her to do was open her bright blue eyes and say I love you and hug me one more time. My uncle decided to call my mother while she was gone and tell her the news. I still remember hearing her screaming and the panic in her voice, knowing that she was not with her little girl during this time. I held on to my nana’s hand for dear life and I never wanted to let go. My uncle saw my devastation and hugged me for about 20 minutes until my mother arrived. This day was the most memorable days of my life, you can maybe see this as a bad way to remember her, but this is the story of how my home, my soul, was taken away from me, someone I can never return too. People can assume your home is where your room is or even where you eat dinner, but I say not where but who. The connection I had with her was like no other, it has been 7 years since her passing and I still feel like it was yesterday. I feel her presence immensely in certain situations, I know she is watching over me and guiding me always.
Its tradition for cookies to made around christmas time for my family, and I’m not just talking about container chocolate chip cookie dough put onto a sheet and baked. Im talking about recipes from scratch and containers topped on more containers full of ricotta cookies, pizzells, home-made tarales, oatmeal cookies, and my favorite, butter cookies. The person that started this all was my nana, she had this old fashioned cookie press that had different cut nozzles that you could attach on to make the most delicious cookies you could ever imagine. You had to lay the press down flat on to the cookie sheet while pushing and turning that nozzle like your life depended on it, it was a tricky concept but, with years of practice I finally mastered it. I remember the last christmas we had with my grandmother was one of the best because that was the last time we baked together. It was an annual thing for us, she made the batter, I watched and used that tedious cookie press when it was time. Unfortunately, she was too sick at the time to make the batter so she watched as me and my mom would make it but, no matter what, even if she was baking or not, she always made sure there were extra butter cookies with the rainbow jimmies because she knew they were my favorite. That cookie press is still used to this day and I will refuse to use something else. You might ask why? Because if I can capture just the slightest memory of her, I will take it. I know this sounds cliche, but this was something special that we shared and I was only 12 when she passed so my remembrance of her remains the same from that point on. I always think of how she would react to the situations that are occurring in my present life. Even though her physical presence isn't here she still has just as big of an impact on my life.
The dictionary meaning of Hiraeth ,“a homesickness tinged with grief or sadness over the lost or departed” stands the same when it comes to my perception of it . A place that you call home but in which you can never return, whether it be a physical in animate object, or human. It is something that pertains to you in a much deeper way than others might perceive. This is something that is right up my alley, I love reaching into a deeper meaning of situations that seem not so interesting to others. This gives the writer an opportunity to perceive things differently and start to create something amazing. My Hiraeth is not a house, nor an object, but an actual human being. My home is my grandmother, someone that was ever so close to me that has past away almost 7 years ago from kidney failure. She was the strongest woman I knew and it kills me everyday that I can never return to her, but in a way I feel that she can return to me. When she passed away, I told my mother that I wanted her perfume, not because I wanted to wear it; it was granny perfume and it actually gives me a headache, but because of how distinct this smell was. This wasn’t just any type of perfume, this was cliques Aromatics Elixir. I am pretty sure that they do not even make this perfume anymore. The bottle is about the length from my thumb to my middle finger, long oval shaped frosted glass with scuffs all over it and a gold lid. Thankfully its more than halfway full, I keep this bottle right next to my makeup box in dresser drawer, it never moves and certainly can never be used. She always wore this perfume and every time I take a tiny whiff of it I get a million different flashbacks of her in the matter of 2 seconds. This bottle is the physical object that brings me back to my home that can never return too, my nana.
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Who I am...I am me, and I will only strive to better myself and stand by my morals. I am am old soul with an empathetic heart and a loud mouth. I don't follow a certain path, I live every day with a purpose. I am your average 5'3 Italian with a big heart and even bigger dreams. Archives
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