Personal Narrative: So Far I Lived In Bly

I go to the beach to get away from all my troubles that are bothering me. To feel grainy sand all under my toes. To sit there under the sun. Feeling warmth of it beating down on your skin. Also to lay on a float in the ocean and just feel the ocean as you are a part of it. Not only to feel but to hear the waves is the ultimate relaxation.

When I was at school the other day, my band instructor told me, “You are one of the hardest workers I have ever seen, why do you work so tirelessly if you know that you might fail? I was quite surprised because she has been teaching for 33 years. I responded with your book, Almost Home.

I woke up on a warm sunny Saturday morning and went down stairs and called my friend Joey Gliech and said “Today is the day!”

My Bubby, which is Yiddish for “grandma”, used to say that my family was like the United Nations. That’s because, while one half of my ancestors were Jews who immigrated to the U.S. from Russia, ending with my dad who was born in Brooklyn, New York, the other half, my mom’s side, came from Ecuador to the U.S. This is not to exclude my aunt Jade who moved from China and converted to Judaism. My mom also converted, and I was raised Jewish, going to temple for Hebrew school and when observing holidays, although I still got to experience the loud, exciting side of my Hispanic family.

When asked ‘where are you from?’, as I often am due to my last name, I was once at a loss for words. My birth certificate would argue Ile Ife, Nigeria. Years spent in Portland, Decatur, and Fairburn give them all claims as a possible hometown. Fortunately, last year I found my answer. However, it wasn’t a city or even a place. I was “at home” when I helped someone in dire need of my help. The smile on a face who just received their first and possibly only meal for the Thanksgiving season. Eyes lighting up upon finally receiving an audience to listen to their stories.

The bright sun glaring in my eyes as I looked around to see the beautiful beach. Lying on my backside just looking at

I wipe my sleeve along the muck covered window. Watching the people rush around trying to get to places, for some odd reason it soothes me. Shema, Cardo, Scien, Lud, and Tarsel fill the street. They walk shoulder to shoulder. The Tarsels keep to themselves and hang their heads as they walk along the crowded sidewalk.

In the second grade I experienced my first nose bleed. It was quite traumatizing; I can distinctly recall the sudden sensation of warm blood wetting my lips and trickling down my throat. All of this was made worse by the fact that I met such a fate not by my own carelessness, but at the hands of another; a little boy named Alex, who pushed me down in a game of tag. Of course, I cried, and once Alex realized the harm he’d caused, he cried too; although I’m sure a fraction of him did feel sorry for the harm he’d inflicted, I think an even bigger fraction was terrified at the idea of being reprimanded. And though his utterances of “I’m sorry” were likely not without some sincerity, in that moment, I was so furious that I didn’t care. I promptly

Some people refer to it as having cabin fever—I think of it as March Madness—either way I personally am done with winter and don’t really care for any more snow showers. Even taking a weeklong hiatus to a warm climate doesn’t cure this fever that is driving me mad.

with a good book while watching the raindrops by the window, even baking cookies on a gloomy day.

I’ve been me for thirteen years, but the me I am today isn’t who I’ve been for thirteen years. The older I get the more I change, yet some of those changes are more noticeable than others. I can remember my largest and most significant change.

When i get out of the airport me and my mom always go to rent-a-car and get a car to use for the week. I am so happy to be in my favorite place in the whole world. I love seeing the palm trees on the side of the highway when we are driving to get to my grandmas house it makes me feel like i am in paradise.

Many times I would lie on my bed and listen to the rain hitting the roof outside my window and I could smell that rain, that’s a great smell. Other nights I would fall asleep in my bed as a cool breeze flowed through my bedroom leaving the air a little crisp, but oh so comfortable. On winter days, I usually had the window closed, obvious reasons. I would lie on my bed drawing cartoon characters, listening to

I always loved riding in the car , listening to music and watching the beautiful landscape that I used to live. The time had passed and we were on the doorstep of grandpa,

The four seasons of the year! Love every season. Each season has its own unique feel to the year. For winter there is cold weather, which means bringing and starting the New Year. Summer, who doesn’t love them hot summer days, eating anything that is cold. Spring, for them raining days, where the smell of fresh flowers begin to blossom, and grow. Lastly, fall. Fall is when it’s time for the kids to head back to school, or those Saturday night college football games to come on. Every season is meaningful in some way throughout the year and some can’t wait for their favorite season to approach. I know fall is mines, and I know I can’t wait either.