Descriptive Essay On My Grandmother's House

That distinct smell that comes from someone lightening a cigarette, always brings me back to my grandma’s house. My grandparents smoked like a train back then. It was so bad that you could see a smoky haze through the rays of sunlight beaming through the windows. I didn’t really realize how bad it was until after a couple hours, my eyes would start to burn. It subsided once I got used to all the smoke and nicotine that filled the room. All my grandparents ever really did was sit, smoke, and watch novelas (Spanish soap opera). Not much of an excitement for a seven year old. I used to get so bored that I would call my older sister and bug her to come pick me up. If all of the nagging calls didn’t work, I sat around hoping to find something to …show more content…
Like clockwork, my grandpa would take my every Sunday morning all the way up to Gatesville to see her. From every social security check he received in the mail, he would put up a certain amount of the money. He always made sure we took enough rolls of quarters to be able to get some snacks out of the vending machine. After my shower my grandma would always lotion me up right before we left out on our journey. I could never remember what kind of lotion it was that she used. All I knew was that it was out of an Avon catalogue. That smell would always remind me of …show more content…
I used to practice questions about what I wanted to ask and a few jokes to make her laugh. Even though I never knew how she would reply, I made up the things I would want to hear. As she sat at the table this big warm feeling buried itself into my heart and filled an emptiness. It didn’t matter to me where we were. All that mattered was that she was there. Hearing her voice was like a lullaby. Feeling her hand run through my hair felt like old times. Of course only times I could remember being by her side. The visits didn’t seem to last long. An hour felt like 30