Vignette 1 It is the early summer of 2005, a hot yet bearable Saturday afternoon. My mom, dad, brother and I have made the six-hour trek to St. Louis to see my Grandparents. One of the stops on our trip is to go to a traveling “Titanic exhibit.” I am so excited to see this huge museum that looks like a boat. Everything else around me seems irrelevant; my mind is focused on seeing this museum. I am so oblivious to everything that when I see my dad go through a revolving door I ran in after him. Unfortunately, I ran in just in time so that the door squeezes my head in between it and the wall. My dad doesn’t know that I am trapped and he keeps pushing on the revolving door. Finally he sees me in the door’s reflection and releases me from the doors grasp. Then I see my
…show more content…
My grandma is wiser than most people her age, and I am far more spoiled than most of the kids in my grade. I am the youngest in my family and growing up I always felt entitled to things. I was stubborn and had a terrible attitude. I sought my identity in the things of the world- but it is my grandmothers beautiful spirit which draws me to her; it is because she saw right through my tough exterior that I open up to her.
I finish my eighth grade year and spend the rest of my summers visiting with her. She is easy to talk to and the most compassionate person in my family tree. One time, for example, when she was teaching, she saw some kids bullying a boy in her class just for being smart. She was quick to scold the bullies because she couldn’t stand the thought of people thinking that they’re better than anyone else. This is a lesson she has engrained in me for years.
I began to call my grandmother Mawmaw. I don’t know why I started calling her this, but I know I was very little and the name just stuck. I am the only grandchild to call her by this nickname. This makes me feel closer to her in a way. It’s much more personal than just saying
My grandma is wiser than most people her age, and I am far more spoiled than most of the kids in my grade. I am the youngest in my family and growing up I always felt entitled to things. I was stubborn and had a terrible attitude. I sought my identity in the things of the world- but it is my grandmothers beautiful spirit which draws me to her; it is because she saw right through my tough exterior that I open up to her.
I finish my eighth grade year and spend the rest of my summers visiting with her. She is easy to talk to and the most compassionate person in my family tree. One time, for example, when she was teaching, she saw some kids bullying a boy in her class just for being smart. She was quick to scold the bullies because she couldn’t stand the thought of people thinking that they’re better than anyone else. This is a lesson she has engrained in me for years.
I began to call my grandmother Mawmaw. I don’t know why I started calling her this, but I know I was very little and the name just stuck. I am the only grandchild to call her by this nickname. This makes me feel closer to her in a way. It’s much more personal than just saying