I was looking back at the first few journal entries we did in class and the very first 2 out of 3 essays we did in class were associated with my grandmother. The second journal entry was on things that we remember when we were really young that may be a little blurry in our memory. But the professor did an exercise that helped us to remember things and focus in a little more clear. Whatever we were trying to remember had to be something that had some type of impact on our lives, which is why we remembered it in the first place. The instance i wrote about the most was when my grandmother used to wash my hair and the process I had to go through afterward.
When my grandmother used to dry my hair after washing it, it would hurt really bad to the point that i would be crying because my hair was very coarse and I was , and still am, tender-headed. She would comb and section it into about 6 different parts so she could braid them and so that my hair wouldn't be all tangled up together. After that my mom would finish it. The item that I remembered that kind of traumatized me was the big yellow comb that she used to comb my hair. It was big and wide-toothed so that she could comb through my hair without me hurting as bad as it would have been with a small-toothed comb, 1. but in my head it was big so that she could hurt me. 2. The smell of the dryer and the grease mixed together was very distinctive. I would pull away from the comb or go with the comb so it wouldn't hurt as much. 3. My grandmother would always say, "You shouldn't be the one complaining." Then I found my mom saying it and now I say it. 4.It felt like the worst feeling in the world, but I found out; it's not.
The next journal entry we did was the next class about a place/room that we remember from when we were younger. Then we had to focus on things that were in the room and maybe even some stuff that used to happen back there. The first place that came to my mind was my grandmother's house and then her and my grandfather's room. I started to focus more on my grandmother and how she used to sleep in the same bed with my grandpa but then started sleeping in the back room so it was like the back room was her room too.
Her bedroom has her personal things in it and the back room had personal things that she shared with others. She would spend more time in the back room than in her bedroom. It feels like home now, but when I was younger I wasn't happy to be there. The older I get the more time I spend in the front room. 1. When I was younger she was meaner there and now she is a lot nicer. 2. The orange carpet was patted down with no more fluff from generations of wear and tear. 3. There was a big old table with no cable that no has cable. There is a big couch with a colorful square pattern always with blankets on the bottom half.
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