My Love For My Grandma

My grandmother’s father, my great-grandpa, left the family when she was six years old. They had since moved to Detroit and

Passion; an intense desire or enthusiasm for something. The latin origin of the word ‘pati’, meaning to suffer. For me running is my passion in every sense of the word.

When I was nine years old, I lived in a well-known area in Florida; I lived in a semi-big house that we all called the yellow house. My family called it the yellow house because out of our entire neighborhood we were the only family with a bright yellow house. My family and I had lived in the yellow house for a total of four years, starting from when I was four. The house was a big part of my life because I had watched it being built so I had an emotional attachment with it. During the last year when my family and I lived there, my mom became pregnant with her fifth child. Around the same time my mom and my sisters constantly visited my grandmother up in a small town in Georgia. Up in Georgia my mom had made one friend that lived in the neighborhood so me and my sisters became good friends with his kids.

Those two years came and went until one day dad received a phone call from grandma, she needed us. Uncle Tim and she had an argument about his wife and her children, they were living with her until they had their new house built and something blew up. Without a second glance my uncle and his family packed up everything and left. Grandma did not make her own food, she did not shop for her own groceries, she was purely dependent on her son, and she never had any reason not to be, because he was always there for her. Grandma was alone for the first time in a long long time. All it took was for a phone call from grandma to have dad running over there, leading to the realization that dad did not talk to grandma for two years not by his choice but because grandma had not reached out to him

Grandma and Grandpa are probably some of the most amazing people in the world. I am really blessed to be so close with grandma and grandpa. Both distance wise and relationship wise. I don’t even know where to start. Between all the cooking lessons, rock shows, R.V. shows, birthdays, track meets, concerts, holidays, dinners, snakes, shopping trips and so on I have a lot of ground to cover in not a lot of time. I’ll start with the cooking lessons.

The summer going into 8th, it was both a joyful and unhappy summer. Unfortunately, my grandpa died in at the very end of my 7th grade year, only a few days before school got out. My grandma and grandpa lived in a large house in Spring Lake only a few blocks away from the beach, and when my grandpa passed it was just my grandma living there by herself. Coincidentally, my neighbors who lived right behind us were selling their house and moving to South Carolina. We talked to my neighbors before anyone else looked at the house because we knew that the situation could not be more perfect. Our neighbors were friendly but we were never really that close to them because they were older and quiet, but we knew that the house would be a perfect spot for my grandma to live so we can help her out. Our family knew that our grandma needed out help and she did not want to live alone, this move was great for everyone. It was settled and in about a month my grandma would be my new neighbor.

Listening to the symphony of waves, discovering seashells, popping kelp bulbs and making footprints in the damp sand still evoke many of my fondest memories. My inner child playfully emerges to frolic whenever my bare feet find a sandy shore. Sunbathing on a beach towel has never appealed to me. Give me a boogie board, inner tube, surfboard, kayak or sailboat to fill my scrapbook with memories.

Every year my family and I go to my grandparent’s bay house. We always have the most amazing time there on the water. We go fishing, boating, jet skiing and spend time on a little island. Like every day at the bay, my cousins and I woke up early to go fishing. Five o’clock a.m. always seems so early until we get out on the water. It’s was cold and brisk that morning and we could smell the salt in the air as we walked over to the dock. The water glistened as the sun started peeking out over the water as it hit the horizon.

During those two months out of the summer of 2005, Taylor and I were on a set schedule of who to live with, when we would arrive, and what time we’d be leaving. This time was split up between grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and church friends. Each place completely different from the other, but after so long houses and faces started to blend together and they all became the same thing over and over again. When our separation had hit the one-month mark we were finally allowed to start having visits with our mom. I remember walking into our house for the first time, in what felt like forever to a young kid, and

When I was six my family made the long trip from St. Louis, Missouri to Forest, Virginia. My Dad’s company that had given my family so much stability after his retirement from the navy was closing. Leaving the place that held all of my earliest memories was hard. I was no longer going to have my childhood friend Jake to watch old Godzilla movies and drink strawberry milk with. My Dad had already made the ten-hour drive a month earlier to start on his new job and to make sure our new house was on time in its construction. So it was up to my mother to pack up our entire house and to make sure that my older sister and I were doing ok with the changes that were happening around us. I still do not fully understand how she did it but my Mom managed

Ever since I was a little girl I would sing everywhere, in the bathroom, the car, at school, and at parties but my favorite spot has always been in the shower. I would never sing in front of my brother, he would always tease me about my voice. Being teased made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Because of that I stopped singing for a while. At that time, I didn’t know what to do singing had been part of my life even before I even came out the womb. I've been told my aunt would sing to me frequently. I felt completely at lost, I was unidentifiable with myself. I need music in my life.

Everybody wants to find their perfect other halves. I'm here to tell you, it's not always where or even when you're looking. Sometimes love shows its glorious face when you're least expecting it. I just so happened to find it in a barroom and it changed my life forever. Even though I never thought I would be in another meaningful relationship and I tried to "hook him up" with my friend, Jordan has become, not only my significant other but my best friend and soul mate.

I like kids but I don’t want them. Me liking kids lead to the enjoyment of me wanting to teach. Seeing a child grow and learn is very special. My love for kids and wanting to help others is my reason for wanting to be a teacher. Being a teacher could fill the void of me not wanting kids being able to return them after a long day. Being able to affect someone's life a very young age. Not being able to give my full attention would be selfish knowing my job revolves around other kids and their needs. I really do like kids. The way I like kids, though is very specific and short term I was able to experience the joy of teaching at a young age. I was able to introduce lesson plans to young kids between the ages 3 and 4 impacting their life and

Throughout most of my life I have had one consistent goal; to become a veterinarian. I have had a continuous and solid passion for animals in all respects. This passion and love has fueled my in striving to achieve the dreams I have for myself after high school. The beginning of this story begins long before high school though.

t was the moment I had been waiting months for. The comforting aromas of bread and tea met my nose the instant I stepped through the doorway. Beautifully-written, thought-provoking books sat on the shelves, waiting to be read while soft strains of celtic lullabies floated through the halls. Excitedly, I bolted up the entryway steps to the arms of some of the most meaningful people in my life- Bumma and Boppy.