One of My Fondest Memories

Hello and happy Tuesday!

I hope you're happy to hear from me again. You're just as amazing and beautiful as yesterday.

Today I want to talk about something that makes me happy. My last two posts may have been a downer, so I want to show you that this page has some positive topics as well. 

Since I'm new to blogging (except one I had for an English class), and since this is a new page, I'd like to tell you more about myself. I'd like you to get to know me, as I would love to hear from my readers! I want to be as personal as I can.

I would like to share with you one of my fondest memories from my childhood.

I was about five to eight years old and I remember I would go visit my great-grandmother in the nursing home with my grandparents. I don't mean this to be morbid because it's all I remember ever seeing her. 

At the entrance, there was this big bird display. I'm not sure what to call it. I've seen them in other nursing homes, so perhaps you know to what I'm referring. I would keep my family back so I could press my nose to the glass and watch them. This happened every time. The whole trip was almost down to a ritual for me.

After the birds, I stopped to see the fish, but only for a couple of seconds. I then would go straight to my great-grandmother and give her a hug. Next, I sat in the rocking chair. I would look around her room. I'd look out the windows blankly. I was always thinking about something. I've always been a daydreamer. 

Then Ma would talk to me. I know now that she was probably wanting me to feel included. She knew I was a bright kid. She encouraged me to grow into the best of my abilities. Then, I'd hug her a few more times before I left.

One time I went, my grandparents were talking about her being suck. I thought nothing of it. I was so innocent, I didn't quite understand that elderly people can often get sicker than others might.

I visited her again before my family headed home, which was a two hour drive from my grandparents. We got home. Maybe a day later, or maybe even that night, we got a call that my great-grandmother had passed away.

This was at an age when I was developing my first memories. I burst into tears. I remember feeling so devastated.

I choose not to remember that last part. I've been lucky enough to retain more of the good memories than the bad. I was even luckier to have known a love that strong so young.

You are loved. Stay strong. Stay united, and fight out hate.

               ~A Millenial