February 2023

The narrator says goodbye to her great-grandmother’s apartment Sunday, Feb. 20, 2022  I’m going to miss Gram’s apartment a lot. I wish we could stay longer. There are so many memories there. I remember when I brought Apples, my guinea pig, and Gram was a little nervous because we couldn’t have pets in the apartment. One time Porsche, my aunt, came to the apartment. She brought her big dog (who has since passed away), and the owner of Gram’s apartment told her that dogs were not allowed. Today, when my mom and I went to clean and throw away some stuff in the apartment, it was so emotionally draining. Even my mom said it was; Gram is her grandmother. It felt like a part of me was pulled away. At first, I was like, Oh, yeah—this is sad that we won’t have Gram’s apartment anymore. But then it hit me that we won’t have a family place either. Gram’s apartment was like a summer house, a family house. It is in Michigan and you can walk to the lake from it. You walk down the path until there is a house on the right-hand side, and then the path curves, after which there are berry bushes on the left side. The berries look like blackberries, but tinier. The grownups told us we should try the berries because when they were kids, they would pick the berries and eat them, so then we started to pick and eat the berries too. It used to be that you could walk down some stairs and go to the beach. But now it’s blocked off because the water has covered the sand and there’s no more beach. My family, aunts, uncles, and I would meet up at Gram’s apartment and have Thanksgiving, Easter, and Valentine’s Day. Lots of times, we would just stop by to get a little vacation and get away from real life. It was relaxing and cozy. One time, we came like we usually did, and we found bags lying on the floor. Ended up, my uncle and his kids had come to rest there for the weekend too and we didn’t even know. We ended up having a fun time and going to the beach. I’ve realized there will be no more talking with Uncle Jesse, Aunt Candace, Aunt Amber, Aunt Porsche, my mom, Lennon, Abby, and Dad while we make sandwiches in the kitchen. No more brushing teeth while hearing the dripping of the bathtub faucet. No more racing up and down the hallway with my cousins Lennon and Owen. And no more having breakfast out on the fake, green, grass patio with the big pink ball statue and the hummingbird feeder that would hang on a pole. I’ve always wondered what that big pink ball was. Probably decoration. I’m really going to miss it all. I feel like it’s going to take years until we have another family home, and I think that is what scares me the most. The Eye in the Dark It’s 11:11 p.m., and out of all the things I could be doing on a weeknight while my parents are sleeping, I chose to write about this. Writing this down is making me feel better. It gives me hope that I will have that fun, adrenaline- tired, happy feeling again. It feels like this: sneaking in quietly at 9 p.m. while your cousins are asleep. You brought pizza and your uncle gets all excited. The lights are dimmed low while you listen to the stories of your aunts’ and uncles’ childhoods, all huddled around by the kitchen counter with pizza boxes opened and out on the table. Soda and beer bottles spread around. Toasting with glass cups and beer cans. So sad. I’ll miss you, apartment. We want to end things nicely, so next weekend we are going to go to the apartment one last time. There is going to be an ice show, and the carousel is open again. It’s been closed for a while because of Covid. Hopefully, we can go and Jesse, Abby, Owen, and Lennon can meet us there. I want to invite Amber, but my mom says that it will be too crazy—we know how Amb is—but I just want to feel that feeling again. When the whole family is together it is hectic, Lennon and Owen following me around, food everywhere, everyone talking and laughing. Eating around the glass table, some sitting on the stools, some sitting around the big table. Porsche ended up taking the big table to her place. Amb took the glass table and most of the mirrors. I almost forgot what the apartment looked like with all the furniture back inside it. I miss it already. Now, truly bye-bye and have a happy time with your new owner. Maybe when I’m older I can come back and visit you and see what you look like.