Gran's Story

This was written for my Junior Honors English class, it is about the American Dream.

A peaceful yet refreshing breeze blew in off the Pacific Ocean, ruffling the tall grass in the dunes. I remember a low soft fog that made Gran’s garden look like something straight out of a fairytale. The fog hugged and caressed the few flowers that had already begun to bloom. Sitting there, that spring morning with Gran, she began to tell me the greatest journey of her life. She told me the story of her American Dream, and in a sense, her life’s story.

            I had spent every spring break with Gran since freshman year. It was now my senior year, and my last spring break with her. For most of the week it had seemed as though there was something she had wanted to say to me. It was not until the day before I left that she sat me down to tell me a story. She began her journey in a quaint village in southern Italy. Piane-Crati was a sleepy little village where everyone knew everyone and everyone seemed to be related in one way or another. Gran lived there until she was thirteen. She lived in a large house with her mother, father, and seven siblings. The house was always filled with noise, people, animals, and love. It was a soft spring morning when Gran’s oldest brother announced he was going to America and would take any of his siblings who would like to go. Three days later she left home for the port of Naples with only a spare change of clothes, a necklace from her mother, and a ten dollar gold piece.

            It took Gran and her brother three months to travel to Naples, and when they got there they had to wait another two months for a ship they would take to America. While waiting for their ship Gran worked for a young family. She looked after the children and cooked the meals. This was around the same time she fell in love with a young man. His name was Eugenio and he too was going to America. Eugenio was also taking the same ship as Gran. Eugenio and Gran planned to get married as soon as they reached America. It was then that Gran faced a dilemma. She and her brother had planned to move to Chicago where her cousins lived, but Eugenio was going to move to Tacoma, Washington where he had family and a guaranteed job. After much thought Gran decided to move to Tacoma with her soon to be husband. Gran and Eugenio were so much in love that they could not wait to get married. They were married a week and a half before they left for America. Now Gran’s brother was not happy about their marriage because he promised his father and mother he would take care of Gran on their journey. Though there was not much he could do about it, being that he was not her father and had no control over what she did.

            Their voyage to America was fairly uneventful. They had good weather and no rough seas. Gran would write in a journal every day of the trip so that when she had grandchildren, we could know what she went through for us. While Gran told me of the trip I looked through the journal. She had the most beautiful sketches on each page. A young woman nursing her baby. An elderly couple looking at the horizon, waiting for America. She recorded daily life in these images.

When they finally reached America Gran and Eugenio caught a train to Tacoma. The train ride was rather long, although she cannot remember exactly how long. Once again Gran drew the most amazing images. The Great Plains, immense mountains, people she met along the journey, and finally the house that she and Eugenio lived in. as soon as they reached Tacoma Gran met his family. They were all very nice, and treated her as if she had been in the family all of her life. It was not long after they came to America that Gran got pregnant. She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. This was just the beginning of what would be a very large family. Gran had a total of seven children, my mother being the youngest child.

Their house was always filled with people and noise. Gran often said how it reminded her of her family back home. Of how no matter what there was always some form of life and love flowing through the house. Growing up my mom might not have had a lot of things, but Gran always had enough to get by and make sure everyone was happy. Every single one of Gran’s children graduated high school and five of them went on to college. The other two helped my grandfather, Eugenio, in his grocery store. They both went on to own the shop together after Papa retired.

When Gran realized that all of her children had gone away and were off starting their own lives, she did something she had wanted to do all of her life. She moved her and Papa to the ocean for their retirement. Papa passed away three years after they moved, but Gran continued to live out on the ocean on her own. Every morning she would wake up and paint the beautiful sunrise, or maybe a baby bird, and sometimes a storm coming in off the sea.

When Gran told me this story, I could tell there was something in her that hurt to relive leaving her family, and the death of my grandfather. Nonetheless I could also tell she was enjoying the fact that she was sharing her story with me. We spent that whole day sitting on the porch watching the weather change and talking. It was the closest I’ve ever felt to her. We shared something in those few hours that connected our souls. The next day when I was leavening a feeling came over me. I could not have told you what it was at the time. It was not until three weeks after I had left that I understood the feeling. That trip was the last time I saw my grandmother. I think she knew it was going to be the last time we saw each other. That is why she told me her story. She might not be with us anymore, but her story lives on in my heart. Gran and Papa are now together again, happily watching over all of their children and grandchildren.

Reviews

[The Perfectionist]

This gets an easy A+

Your imagery is wonderful, your writing is impeccable, your story is concise, and yet detailed. This is the best thing you've ever done. It could have used more emotion, but don't you dare change a damned thing. Frame this one.