I, admittedly, do not pay nearly enough attention to my young cousins. This becomes deeply ironic if one were to tally up the amount of time I have spent acknowledging the “value of thought produced from society's younger members” or expressing a general awe of the human imagination, but when visiting family in small-town Georgia during the summer, the prodigious heat of the South leaves me generally unsociable and content to spend my days reading alone under the magnolias. Two of my cousins- who partly inhabit my grandfather's house due to a seemingly never-ending animus divorce- would always position themselves near me, drawing or tapping at something electronic. I had been four years old when the older of the two was born and, and in the brief window in which we were all at the same low ranking in the family, I remember constant comradery. As I finally grew into an age my sister deemed appropriate for friendship, though, the relationship I once held with my cousins seemed to simply slip away. Some years ago, during a long-lived afternoon …show more content…
“Why does fruit rot?” the other asked as we approached the farm’s most notable feature- Its large, grizzled mulberry tree. I shared a greater story, I suppose, in explaining how the tree gave the fruit life, its death by removal, the deterioration of the cell wall, and the hastening of its quietus due to microorganisms. We all three felt humbled as we sat quietly at the base of the natural monument eating the mulberries we had plucked from the tree’s lower branches. That day I had been unwittingly allowed to learn that relationships seldom die when they seem to slip away. Having now acquired the beginnings of introspection and appreciation for not only human connection, but also the relationship I have with my interests, I seem only to find myself further enamored with the beauty and brilliance of human existence on this
The family unit has always been an integral part of every person’s development. Naturally, the parental figure plays an overwhelming influence in the maturity of the child, but sibling interaction can be just as great. Often sibling rivalry, or alliance, outlines this connection as a person carves a path into social peer groups. This articulation of sibling influence can be understood by examining the short stories “The Red Convertible” by Louise Erdrich and “Sonny’s Blues” by James Baldwin, both accounts of brotherly experience shown through separation and drug abuse.
Within the few minutes of meeting, my cousins and I were treating each other as if we had lived together for years. We were sharing crazy memories and laughing like old friends. Just in the car ride to my grandmother’s house, we shared secrets among ourselves and sang our hearts out to our favorite tunes. Once we arrived, I met my grandparents for the very first time in person, and they embraced me as if I was their own daughter.
Sometimes I think that the trouble with men is that we aren't women. One almost never sees women fight. No, that's a guy thing, a manly thing that also raises disturbing questions about what it means to be a man these days. Becoming a man comes with realizing your responsibilities in life. Becoming a man comes when you take control of your responsibilities in life for yourself and for others. If you live at home, and accept money, food, or anything else from your parents - you have no earthly idea what it takes or means to become a man. On the day that you catch the clue that electricity costs a great deal of money, and that leaving the lights on when you leave the home becomes very expensive, then one may slightly show the slow turning into the corner to manhood. On the day that you can solve tour own problems without having to call someone for help or whining to your parents, you have become a man
My friend Kyle used to live on the Blane's culdesac back in middle school. Neighborhood lore is that it's called that because Nathaniel Blane used to meet one of his lovers there, Peabody or something like that. I bet you're not here for the history lessons though, so I'll just cut to the chase about what happened last August.
In Of Mice and Men, Cry, the Beloved Country, and All Quiet on the Western Front, the respective authors present the idea that relationships of all sorts, whether they be friendships or family ties, change peoples' lives even if they don't necessarily know it. Even strangers a person would never meet again could irrevocably change their lives in a matter of seconds. A smile or a kind word could have a huge amount of impact on a person's life, as could a frown or a nasty statement. Of course, friends have a much more lasting impact on a person's
Often when people start to drift apart, the first thing they do is stop talking. The two lovebirds in this tale, William Forrester and Helen Loomis, spent their days after meeting “reacquainting” themselves with each other. For twenty-five days straight, the two of them relived their lives for each other during conversation. They learned both were capable of engaging in stimulating conversation with each other because they had so much in common. “They talked of art, of literature, of life, society and politics[.]” (Schwiebert 251) When two people are away from each other, it...
You’d think being carbon copies, a yearning would spark between the both of you, yet, an old proverb materializes in my mind and reminds me of the lukewarm truth, affection and compatibility do not correlate. Fully remembering what transpired during the trip to visit Bo, nestled in the corner of the backseat. Squarely transfixed on my iPhone, I’d wait patiently to notice my phone’s screen to illuminate with a text message from her. Meeting at the beginning of 7th grade, I grew an affection for her, an individual who had read Anna Karenina, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, and a variety of other classics, who analyzed politics and would earnestly chat about it, willing to venture into the philosophy of life and daily tasks. We’d developed a closer tie, texting constantly as we relished conversing with each other on a daily basis, every day we would find ourselves in 6 hour conversation.Developing tenderness for her was through her tribulations. Confronting similar dilemmas bonded us, and we’d share our stories with each other, our own wistful lives. Throughout the journey to Bo’s, we’d exchange a flurry of texts; I could relive our conversations anytime during that trip. An exchange of torment, of connecting with an individual, of not sensing the idea of being solely within the abyss. Shunning an idea such as being alone is part of humanity, for who could ever remember us when were lifeless? With this particular friend, we
Under these predicaments, there is no surprise that intimacy arose between me and another captive. We became very good friends. Her name was Margery, and on account of her beautifulness, she was greatly admired, although she was a
Today was the day, months and months of practice and rehearsals leading up to today. The advice my mom had given me still running through my head, whatever happens it's part of the show, the audience does not exist, live the show. I was ready, as the opening music number was just starting up i walked on to the stage and the show began!
All my life I’ve been fat. When I was a girl, my fatness made the monkey bars incredibly hard, but I decided that I was going to persevere and do them anyway. I have never let anything stand in the way of my success, especially myself. I conquered my school’s jungle gym so successfully you could easily compare it to Alexander the Great. Since I was stubborn and wouldn't allow all my struggles to stand in the way of my eventual success, I steadily improved my monkey bar skills, and I consistently use that knowledge and perseverance in my average life.
My love of plants began with one little ragged looking 3g azalea, named Sherwood Cerise. It had outgrown its container and was taller than customers wanted, untrimmed and a little sparse for that reason. It resembled some of the beautiful bonsaied Japanese maples, twisted and contorted and lovely. I planted it for strange reasons (after a childhood of gardening, I’d sworn off plants forever), one being that I couldn’t resist its structural beauty. That was the proverbial snowball that got my love of woodies going, and soon that snowball was out of control I took home a few more “throwaways” from the little nursery where I worked and where I found “Sherry” as I called my treasure. Before I knew it, bought some little 1g guys to join the crowd. SoonI was employed by a larger nursery, one just beginning to grow and make its name, I found my
...suit for academic excellence and development of a professional career while neglecting several other important things in life. This can leave one unhappy and unfulfilled. Love is one of the greatest needs of man. Loving others and being loved by others is indispensable to living a fulfilled life. I agree with Morrie that “love is how you stay alive, even after you are gone” and his belief that we must "love each other or perish.” The message of the book is like a knock on the door, the decision lies with every reader to open the door of communication with better relationships to others. I choose to open mine. I chose to become more open to letting others into my world. I resolve to contribute at least a smile, a shared laughter or a compliment to those around me today because life is too unpredictable to procrastinate on giving such little indispensable gifts.
The course wasn’t about human anatomy like I suggested, but Plant-Breeding of all damn things. April mentioned that the quantitative genetics were easy, but that Sunday I spent hours pouring over the materials.
On the edge of a small wood, an ancient tree sat hunched over, the gnarled, old king of a once vast domain that had long ago been turned to pasture. The great, gray knees gripped the hard earth with a solidity of purpose that made it difficult to determine just where the tree began and the soil ended, so strong was the union of the ancient bark and grainy sustenance. Many years had those roots known—years when the dry sands had shriveled the outer branches under a parched sun, years when the waters had risen up, drowning those same sands in the tears of unceasing time.
relationships, I thought would be just like them. It was a beautiful Saturday evening, the sun had