The morning that my grandfather passed away, the first snow fell. Not in a mass of white, spread across the sky and eventually blanketing the ground, but rather, a breath of frozen air that flew across my windshield. It happened so quickly that I had almost thought I imagined it. The alignment of the two events was so serendipitous, it was as if the flakes had been waiting for him. But over the next few days the air continued to frost, the clouds began to weep blizzards, and I was left to appreciate the cold for what it was; the rest of the world had pressed pause.
Before last week, I had never associated cemetaries with beauty. But that changed the moment I found myself standing alone, amidst a circle of family clinging to one another. I could hardly catch my breath as I tuned out the chorus of Amazing Grace, and zeroed in on every crunch the frozen blades of grass made under my feet. The early light filtered through every grain of sand placed in his grave and every face that stood by it's edge, but that could never highlight our connection. I have never felt as close to my family as I did that day. When every hug lasted five seconds longer than usual, and every 'goodbye' dragged into an 'I love you'.
The week that I spent in Wawa with my family left me with a completely new perspective on almost every aspect of my life. A greater appreciation for my family and my experiences, but also a chance to remember myself. It gave me the chance to take a step back from our busy classroom and reevaluate everything that I was doing on both a small scale, and a large scale. It's strange how going back, learning, and truly understanding where I came from, was the trigger for me to recalibrate my future outlook. It's as if I had started to visualize the possibilities for my story, while I had been stringing together the photographic timeline of his. I am not so sure what my next steps are going to look like anymore. Whether i'll stay here, or study abroad, or perhaps a little bit of both.
All I know for sure is that wherever I end up, it'll be somewhere with snow.
The week that I spent in Wawa with my family left me with a completely new perspective on almost every aspect of my life. A greater appreciation for my family and my experiences, but also a chance to remember myself. It gave me the chance to take a step back from our busy classroom and reevaluate everything that I was doing on both a small scale, and a large scale. It's strange how going back, learning, and truly understanding where I came from, was the trigger for me to recalibrate my future outlook. It's as if I had started to visualize the possibilities for my story, while I had been stringing together the photographic timeline of his. I am not so sure what my next steps are going to look like anymore. Whether i'll stay here, or study abroad, or perhaps a little bit of both.
All I know for sure is that wherever I end up, it'll be somewhere with snow.