Category Archives: Blogs – Memoirs
Love is a truly beautiful thing. There are so many types of love, it grows in so many different ways, hits you at the most random times, and swoops you off your feet in a matter of seconds. Here’s a beautiful story of a time I encountered my first love while on a vacation with my parents and family. Let me tell you the story of my first love.
The oceans mist brushed across my face as the wind picked up, blowing my hair wildly. My fingers wrapped around the bannister of the hotel balcony as I gazed out toward the ocean. I’m finally here. An escape from reality and time to just be me. No responsibilities, no worries. The sun was beginning to set due west, casting a gorgeous light across the sandy beaches and ocean beyond. Relaxation mode, engage.
In the distance, I could hear skateboards heading in my direction. I looked over to see two boys skating towards the park, a distance away to my left. One of them glanced up, catching my eye and slowed down as he came near the balcony. I was only up a tiny distance from the street, being on the first floor, so we had a clear view of one another. He smiled up at me as the second boy slowed down, following the firsts gaze up at me. They walked passed with their boards in hand toward the park and both smiled up to me. I blushed, smiling back, then looked back towards the ocean as they passed. A breeze picked up, giving me a chill and I returned inside my families hotel room. My parents were unpacking and getting ready for a night out with the rest of our family that were staying at the hotel with us. This was the one time throughout the year we all were able to get together, the one time
NOTE: The following was a story that I wrote in third person way back in 2005 for a middle school paper. Why not share it! :P
“I’m sorry dear. He’s gone,” her mother cried. Tears ran down her face as she looked down upon her rabbit’s corpse. She held his body in her hands, crying upon the towel. Grayson held that rabbit so dearly to her heart, like her own child.
Grayson awoke with an oozing pain in her stomach. Today was the day of her friend’s bar mitzvah. She crawled out of bed and began to get ready for the party. The oozing pain continued but just keeps getting worse. She felt her stomach just wanting to reject everything in it. She rushed quickly into the bathroom, bent over and let it all out. The nasty feeling of it just made her sicker. When she got up, she went into her room and continued to get ready. After applying her eyeliner and some final touches, she went down stairs for a bite to eat. Her stomach still in pain, she tried to eat, but she just couldn’t.
Her mother turned to her, “Grayson, you have to eat”
“Mom, I’m not feeling good. I threw up this morning,” responded Grayson with a moan of sickness. She trudged into her family room and plopped herself on the couch. She then pulls the strength to pick herself up and walks over to her rabbit. She slowly and carefully lifted up the top of his cage and extends her arm to pet her rabbit Peter (also known as Bunny). As she stroked his long fur coat, she noticed that he was missing some hair. Shedding perhaps? Grayson thought. Still unsure, she told her mom.
The night was all but a blur to me as I ran up the stairs after a day of shopping with my mother and brother. My dad had just gotten home from work so I was expecting him to be ready for me to show off my new items.
Once opening the door, I completely forgot about what I wanted to show him.
My father was standing in the kitchen fidgeting with his trousers and their coat hanger. He looked up, seeming unsure of what he was doing. It looked as though he was putting his pants on their hanger, getting ready to place them in his closet. However, why was he in the kitchen rather his bedroom taking care of his daily after-work tasks?
My mother flew past me as I stood in the doorway and flung her arms around his barely clothed back. She quickly ordered me to hand her the phone and I promptly responded by doing so. By the age of 8, it was already programmed in my mind to do as I was told if something remotely seemed off with my dad. She slowly grabbed his clothes from his hands and carefully guided him to sit down by the fireplace in our family room, which sat right next to the kitchen. Perhaps she clothed him or placed the clothes on the couch as she passed by, or perhaps she dropped them where she stood holding him, I don’t remember. But how my father was, I remember.
His entire body was shaking, as though he was cold or as some would say, having a mild seizure. His eyes kept looking to my mother. My brother and I slowly walked to them as we heard my mothers voice speak frantically into the phone. An ambulance was on it’s way, we could hear the sirens in the distance. My brother and I huddled close, watching my father closely and listening to my mothers every command.