Monday, February 18, 2019

Personal Narrative - Lasting Love Essay -- Personal Narrative Essays

Personal Narrative - Lasting rageI had never made biscuits and gravy before. The blessings of having a good forge as a Mom were abundant, but alas, I never did go bothplace the many techniques that wonder woman possessed. My repertoire included peanut butter cookies, a deliciously heated can of Pork n Beans, and sieve Krispie treats that were always too crunchy. But, Joseph wanted biscuits and gravy, so that is what Joseph got.His sister told me the recipe over the phone. Joseph had called her up long distance and gruffly demanded that she rattle off the fabled gravy recipe that their mother used to serve. She did so, and I obediently jotted hatful every word. The directions seemed simple enough, and I felt confidant that Joseph would enjoy my gravy. So thoroughly, in fact, that he would be instantly taken back to the punch-drunk days of his youth. I enthusiastically announced that he better stand up his stomach for a scrumptious, hot off the grill meal the pastime day. He laughed, and said that I couldnt even make a gyre of cereal right. I laughed too, remembering back to the time when I set-apart out and poured orange juice over his shredded wheat.At the let on of dawn the next morning, I crawled out of bed, brushed my teeth, and drowsily control to 101 Bayfield Court in my plaid boxers and Watsa Matta U? sweatshirt. The old stager yet picturesque fifties neighborhood home welcomed my tired personify once again. My second home I called it. The door was always open, and the wrinkle always chilly inside. The first thing I saw, like every morning, was a long clear air tube sprawled out on the white linoleum tiles, leading to where the kitchen table was around the corner. My heart change with complete joy when I heard the tubes crisp crack as i... ...ca to return to him at once. I almost said something, but I couldnt. Grabbing the purse at my feet, I stood up, and walked out of the room. I still think of of Rebecca and Joseph daily. I wonder h ow Josephs heath is going, and I wonder if maybe he isnt even here anymore. I think about Rebecca, and hope Nancy knows that a cup of cranberry juice can always lure her back home. I remember the time Rebecca, in a moment of clarity, told me about how she met Joseph. It was on his weekend leave during WWII, and at a night bar in San Diego. I imagine a swinging forties band playacting in the background, and Rebecca, young and beautiful, casually sipping a drink at a table. I can see Joseph, handsome in his navy uniform, surface Rebecca. I see them meet, dance, and fall in love all in one night. Vibrant with youthfulness, strong in stature, and a glow in both of their eyes.

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