So we are four days from Christmas and evidently, my special friend thinks it’s high time for a break. Therefore, she’s not coming. It’s just me.
Let’s pretend for a second that I am having coffee with my friend, I would tell her that today is a special day. Today, December 21, 2015, marks the fourteenth year since I have stepped onto a plane, flown across the Pacific Ocean, and landed in LAX. Every year, I’ve sought to commemorate this day, to do something special and every year, I’ve failed.
The worst was 2004 when I began December 21 in the hospital and ended up spending the day in bed. I had a full-body seizure just the night before. Definitely not a good way to commemorate such a special day.
So, how can I make such day memorable?
I guess I’ve already have, in a way, when I came to this new country.
In 2009, I began writing a story, digging deep into my brain, into my childhood memory for an account or detailed recollection of my early days in the U.S. I wrote about how everything was a stranger to me (language, food, traditions, etc.) and of how I rode in a car for two days and one nights to my step-grandparents’ house. Then I would go on to describe my first-ever traditional Christmas eve, which I spent watching a movie that I had no clue what it’s about while everyone took turns to open one present.
This recollection was supposedly titled “My Adventure from Home” because during the early days, I suppose I was quite used to this country being my new home. So, all these things occurring, they are simply adventures.
Unfortunately, after five pages, I hit a dead end. I think it was writer’s block and I couldn’t go on any longer. So I stopped and never touched that file again. I suppose I should probably open it now, maybe I’ll get an idea or two.
In case you missed last week: