In Class Blog Post #2 // Out of the Blue
When I was four, my grandmother took me to the beach for the first time in my life. There, we searched for diamonds in the waves. I recall that day fondly, remembering my squeal at my initial contact with the ocean. It was so cold, but I quickly adjusted and splashed in the surf to collect my diamonds.
I could see them, I really could. The diamonds blanketed the water, making the beautiful blue waters shimmer gold and white in the sunlight. For some reason though, they would slip through my fingers and I was unable to capture them. My grandmother was laughing too, I remember, which was strange and delightful for me. She was such a severe figure, and yet, we were having fun at the beach. Even as a young child, I found that slightly strange.
I don't remember what I had for lunch, what I was wearing, or even whether or not the beach was in Taiwan, which was our home country, or in the United States, where I live now. I just remember running through the waves and giggling and eventually giving up on the diamonds in the water. I remember running to my grandmother and her bundling me up in a rough towel that smelled of the lye soap that my family used for laundry.
I have other fond memories of my grandmother too, but no other that remind me of who she was at the beach. I don't remember her ever laughing, or being willing to get messy, except for that one time.
Now, as a student at UCSB, I see the ocean every single day and that makes me think of her. When it's sunny, the sunlight glimmers on the waves and reminds me of the diamonds I believed in back when I was four.
I miss my grandmother more than words - she is sickly and back in Taiwan and I am here in the United States continuing my education. I speak with her once a week on the phone (calls across the world get pricey!) and I am perpetually ready to drop all of my plans and leave to Taiwan should the time come for me to say goodbye.
First, what a lovely memory of your grandmother, thank you for sharing. What struck me about your description of that day at the beach was the “slightly strange” feeling you remember having when you heard your generally more reserved grandmother laughing. It actually reminded me of a memory I had of my father saying he loved me, as he is not one to express himself in such a manner. I had that same “slightly strange” feeling, as it was so unexpected. My mother on the other hand has always expressed how much she loves me, and my siblings so it is almost second nature to hear her say “I love you.” After reading your post, it made me wonder if that same persistence of negative memories could be applied to memories where our expectations are violated. Do we remember these moments more clearly because they went against what we expected? I cannot remember a specific memory of my mother saying she loves me, as it is a constant. Did my father’s words have more impact, simply because I was not habituated to him saying it? As music that goes against our expectations can elicit stronger emotions, maybe this same unpredictability can have an impact on the memories we store in regards to social interactions.
ReplyDelete