Childhood Memories – Personal Essay
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My fondest childhood memories are of my grandmother, or as I used to call her, “Buela”. She was one of the toughest people I knew. She was born in 1917 during the World War I Era and lived through the duration of World War II. Grandma also survived the Great Depression alongside others throughout the nation. She was forced to endure the horrible days when women had no liberal rights. My grandmother witnessed seventeen different Presidents in office. Sadly, she also lived through the devastation of 9/11. My grandmother was a devoted Christian. She never missed church service. You could expect to see her sitting right up front every Wednesday and Sunday. She was widowed at a very young age, but was still able to maintain a home with five children. Even though two of the children were not maternally hers, she loved and cared for them as if they were her own. In my eyes that was very honorable. It showed her strong moral values and her tremendous character.
Most of my favorite memories of my grandmother are the times I visited her during the summer. I grew up in Diboll, a small town in East Texas, and my grandmother lived in Lyford, an even smaller town in South Texas which is practically in Mexico. This was about an eight hour long drive, however, I did not mind it one bit because I knew the fun that awaited me. I used to go down and stay with Buela for a month or 6 weeks in the summer. Some of my favorite times were on Sunday mornings when my grandmother would pick me up after Sunday school in her old Ford station wagon. Grandma would always hurry me up to change into my “outdoor” clothes which consisted of an old pair of cut up blue jeans that I never wanted to take off. We would drive down to the river, stopping at a convenience store along the way to pick up some little snack or toy. (I especially remember the baseball cards that came with a stick of gum inside the pack) Eventually, we would end up at a park near the Rio Grande Valley with a path over and around this little pond that was filled with waterlilies. I loved to run around on that little path, knowing that Buela was watching me in enjoyment with the biggest smile on her face. These were the only times that I really had my grandmother all to myself, which, made these moments even more special. I guess the happiness came from knowing that this was my special time with someone that I treasured and who adored me. Plus, running around outside in my cutoff jeans and no shirt was always fun. Alone time with my dear grandmother was a large part of my happy childhood memories and will always fill my heart with joy. A lot of other good memories are those of special traditions during holidays, generally involving cooking or baking with my grandma. She would allow me to make decisions on what to make for dinner, or decide if it will be tamales with bunuelos (a homemade Mexican pastry) or flan.