Monday, April 12, 2010

I Still Miss You....

So yesterday in class we were talking about symbolism and comparing the symbolism of a white umbrella in a short story we were reading, to the symbolism of a collection of glass pigs in the book The Pigman. The Umbrella stood for something we could not have. For material objects that as humans - and especially in American culture - we let control our lives as objects of love and affection. Think of it. I know I do the same thing, but I'd rather have designer things that I don't like and hurt me (shoes) than have comfy shoes that come from Walmart.

The pig collection stood for love that the old man in the story had for his recently deceased wife. They had collected one each year of their marriage, so in the end it represented his last physical link to her.

This in turn got me thinking about love and my own "pig collection". I have written and rewritten this paragraph, saying seven things that are my Pig collection, but it's not true. In reality I have three things that I would go into a burning building for. One is the last gift she gave me, a tea set. It got it for Easter of 3rd grade, after my aunt found it in my grandmother's closet. She had been saving it for my birthday. It's not fancy, probably didn't even coast $15, but it's the last thing she gave me, so I hold on to it. The second is a pink purse like wallet that she gave me at the beginning of 3rd grade, before the stroke. The last, and my most cherished is a little wooden box.

When we were going through my grandmother's stuff after she passed away, i found a little wooden box. My aunts didn't want it, so I was I got to keep it. Inside I put some of her jewelry, a picture of her parents (my great-grandparents), a picture of my mom and two aunts, a hand painted by my great-grandmother handkerchief, and most of all her wallet. It's old and made of leather. On the front is a hand painted face like the handkerchief, but I find it the most precious for some reason. There is about two dollars in coins inside, but I can not nor will I ever be able to spend it.

I still miss my grandmother even though it will be five years in December. I know it's not right, but I think I might have cared more for her than my mother. She was like a second mother to me, except she never nagged or yelled, she just cuddled and made me feel batter when I was upset. It's hard without her, my family sorta broke after she died. My aunt moved out after getting a job at Trinity college, and now at the University of New Hampshire. My other aunt, well I guess things are almost the same with her. My grandfather has a girlfriend now, but that's not really a bad thing, though my mom acts like it is. But I guess the biggest break was my relationship with my mom. After my grandmother's death things changed between us, and not for the better.



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