Sweet Memories
Sweet Memories
It was raining outside, shattering relentlessly on my window panes. I snuggled into my thick, warm sheets, pulling them tightly around me. I rather enjoyed rainy nights, the rain seemed to drown out my thoughts, leaving a peaceful calm feeling, no pressure of time nor space. A loud rumbling growl of thunder bellowed, making me jump. Unconsciously, my fingers reached out for my blanky, my faithful companion for the past few years, my source of comfort throughout stormy days. I buried my nose into the silky blue quilt; the familiar smell somehow brought a nostalgic feeling to my soul. Blanky always reminded me of grandma. Memories locked deep in my heart that I tried ever so hard to forget flooded my mind once again; I hurriedly blinked away the tears that was brimming on the edge of my lashes…
I remember the days, when grandmother was still around. She wasn’t the typical stereotype grandmother who sits in old, wooden rocking chairs, knitting endlessly to pass their old days. My grandmother was special. Short, black-grey curls bounced around her wrinkled sun burnt face. Dark mischievous eyes twinkled from under bushy eyebrows. My grandmother was really energetic. She was always running around, cracking jokes, and bringing me out for picnics. I spent a lot of time with grandma, when my parents went for vacations. I enjoyed my days with grandma though.
Grandma lived alone somewhere in the country. It was a small house surrounded with a big meadow and green pastures. I loved my Grandma’s little secret garden. It was a beautiful garden, surrounded by a great wall of tall trees, bringing mysterious, peaceful feelings. Sometimes we would just sit on the back porch swing; I would lie my head on her knee, and she would stroke my head as she told me a story. At nights, Grandma would bring me out to watch the stars. She promised that she would always be there for me, just as the stars were. For my fifth
It was raining outside, shattering relentlessly on my window panes. I snuggled into my thick, warm sheets, pulling them tightly around me. I rather enjoyed rainy nights, the rain seemed to drown out my thoughts, leaving a peaceful calm feeling, no pressure of time nor space. A loud rumbling growl of thunder bellowed, making me jump. Unconsciously, my fingers reached out for my blanky, my faithful companion for the past few years, my source of comfort throughout stormy days. I buried my nose into the silky blue quilt; the familiar smell somehow brought a nostalgic feeling to my soul. Blanky always reminded me of grandma. Memories locked deep in my heart that I tried ever so hard to forget flooded my mind once again; I hurriedly blinked away the tears that was brimming on the edge of my lashes…
I remember the days, when grandmother was still around. She wasn’t the typical stereotype grandmother who sits in old, wooden rocking chairs, knitting endlessly to pass their old days. My grandmother was special. Short, black-grey curls bounced around her wrinkled sun burnt face. Dark mischievous eyes twinkled from under bushy eyebrows. My grandmother was really energetic. She was always running around, cracking jokes, and bringing me out for picnics. I spent a lot of time with grandma, when my parents went for vacations. I enjoyed my days with grandma though.
Grandma lived alone somewhere in the country. It was a small house surrounded with a big meadow and green pastures. I loved my Grandma’s little secret garden. It was a beautiful garden, surrounded by a great wall of tall trees, bringing mysterious, peaceful feelings. Sometimes we would just sit on the back porch swing; I would lie my head on her knee, and she would stroke my head as she told me a story. At nights, Grandma would bring me out to watch the stars. She promised that she would always be there for me, just as the stars were. For my fifth