October 31

Memory Writing: My Far-Away Home

My Far-Away Home

As Americans, we tend to distance ourselves from other cultures and ways of life. We seem to forget that maybe we aren’t the epicenter of the world. Perhaps we should immerse ourselves more within the real practices and traditions of people in different countries. Frequently, I think of my grandparents and how I yearn for a comfortable life like theirs. Even though I idealize the speed and thrill of a bustling city, I also crave the scent of fresh air and the raw character of unpaved roads and concrete-built homes. My grandparents’ home in Mexico is beautiful beyond words. Two years ago, I visited it for the first time in a long time. Seeing its royal white doors, I was hit with a pang of nostalgia. It’s cold tiled flooring contrasted with the wafts of warm air. I spent three weeks there and felt like a typical tourist, but I was filled with a sense of gratitude. The garden right by the kitchen, with its vibrant lime trees, reminded me of summers past. At some point, you look around and realize that maybe you should be more appreciative of simple pleasures. My favorite space is the balcony, where my cousins and I would sit at night and listen to the buzzing of motorcycles driving by. When people fall in love with buildings, they notice their architecture, the outward appearance of them. But this house is an oasis. This house that my grandfather built is a symbol of serenity. Regardless of these fond memories, every time I go I reflect on the fact that I never truly relish it. I spend my time on the crisp and silent plane ride back home wishing I did more, had more time. Mega malls, fast food joints, towering skyscrapers: they don’t hold a candle to the summers I’ve spent in that house. 

October 31

A Halloween Hunt

Running down the street at full speed, the wind catching my cape and flowing through my hair, making it fly. DING DONG! “Trick or treat!” Candy is thrown into my black tote bag– “Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

The sprint continues, yelling “hi” to friends I zoom past. As we run, I shove a chewy “creepy crawly” gummy into my mouth. “C’mon!” I yell to Mac as her pounding footsteps slow, the wind carrying the whisper of her heavy breathing with it, I slow my steps, and the crunching leaves cease. “Can we take a break?” she asks. I reply begrudgingly but secretly happy, “Ugh, fine.” I’m winded but in my element.

We sit on a rock, picking our favorite candy from our bags. Mouths watering, hearts beating joyously, crinkling wrappers tossing around the bags. “Yes!” Mac cries, finding a Twix or two, “Yes!”. “Aww, I have so many Reese’s. Can we trade?” My incessant badgering continues, “Please? You have so many Milk Duds!” Mac finishes chewing her incredibly sticky Milk Dud and replies with a grimace. “Egh… yes please. I don’t like them.” We aggressively shove our unwanted candy at each other, the cold wrappers chilling my warm skin. “Let’s go!” We sprint around the rest of the neighborhood, creating more wind than a tornado as we go.

As our voracious candy hunt comes to a close, I ask, “Wanna go watch Ghostbusters and count our candy?” “Hell yeah!” We head toward my house, looking forward to our warm fort and popcorn.

October 31

May 3 2021

17 months. 77 weeks. 539 days. 12,922 hours. May 3rd, 2021. One of the biggest and hardest moments of my entire life. It was April 2021, and I was at yet another appointment for my headaches. I was told I had to make a decision before the end of the appointment. I had to choose to get surgery in less than a month, or two months. I had little to no idea what the surgery even did exactly, yet I chose for the surgery to be in May. I wasn’t really scared at first, and I’m embarrassed to admit I was hurting too badly to take it seriously. With a week until surgery I realized how scared I actually was, and how alone I felt. “Be there for your mama she’s going through a lot right now” “Your parents are so strong” “I can’t even imagine what your parents are going through” I understood this was a lot for them, but it was a lot for me too. I didn’t want to ask for attention, but I was struggling too – it was happening to me, after all. As the minutes passed, I seemed to dread it more and more. I tried to block out any scary thoughts, but it felt impossible. I didn’t want to scare my family more, because we were all on edge, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt lonely and scared, and I didn’t know what to expect of the next few weeks. It was finally May 3rd. Where it all started. 

October 31

Memory Piece-Cliff Jumping

Last year, in the summer of 2021, I went on vacation with my family to Cinque Terre in Italy. On the first day of the trip, my family and I headed down to the beach, aching to escape the moist summer heat. Weaving through the mass of people, we searched for an empty rock to hold our belongings. As my brother and I walked towards the water, our eyes caught sight of dark figures falling into the ocean and splashing water in a million different directions. We quickly realized that the figures were people throwing themselves off of the cliff on the edge of the sea. My adventurous brother and I immediately decided that we wanted to do the same. The first step was to scale the rocks to jump off. Following my brother, I wrapped my hand around the cold, wet rock and pushed myself off the ground with my legs. To prevent my hands from shaking I gripped the rocks until my knuckles turned white. As I reached the top I could hear my heart pumping and the distant cries of encouragement. I watched my brother launch himself away from the rock, his muscles showing through his skin. I counted the seconds he fell through the air before finally hitting the sparkling water. When it was my turn I stepped to the edge and looked down into the crystal-clear Italian sea. I gathered every ounce of courage in my body and mimicked how my brother jumped. As soon as I left the ground I felt my heart stop and adrenaline flowing through my veins. The freedom from the fall lasted until I slammed into the cool, refreshing water. I aggressively kicked my way back to the surface, where I took a deep breath for the first time since jumping. A smile stretched across my face as I headed to do it again.