Typically when you hear about family vacations, you hear stories of laughter and family bonding. However, my experience was not as such. My family vacation was of horror and tragedy. The story begins, in the summer of 2013, when my family, friend, and I decided to go to Sarasota, Florida for a vacation. We had planned on spending five days in Florida and then to take a trip on a cruise for three days.
The smell of morning air seemed to carry an aroma of clean linen as the sunrise glinted off of the dew and the greenery warmth of the day. I awoke early at seven, but I did not complain since we would be in paradise in less than sixteen hours. On the way there, we took a pit stop at Cracker Barrel in Dublin, Georgia. The smell of fresh baked bread,
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"Sorry for asking, mom," I said.
Scanning around the room with my tired eyes, I spotted the waitress along with her companions making their way towards our table. When she sat down my plate, my mouth began to water. The tender, cooked meat smothered in rich, chicken gravy looked tasty and delightful beside the steamed delicious vegetables and cheesy mashed potatoes. In the company of the other patrons, my family and I ate in companionable silence. The quiet was broken by intermittent spurts of conversation, a comment here and there about how the food tasted and memories were brought to light by the sensations of smell and taste.
Our laughter brought our table to the attention of the other customers around us. We shared smiles of mutual happiness and occasional laughter when my father made another one of his bad jokes. As our meal came to an end, we stretched out the moment. We were halfway in our seats, one hand reaching back for the table and back to the cozy atmosphere that had settled there and kept us warm. Walking past the toys and gifts, we made our way out of the
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“This is 9-1-1, how may we help you?” The operator answered.
My heart skipped a beat.
“I would like to report an accident on Boleyn Road, my father fell from a UTV we were driving, I do not know what to do,” I uttered.
“Stay right there, do not move him form the scene and the paramedics will be on their way,” he said.
Two days passed by and the doctors told us that he was still unconscious. They just had explained that they took a few tests to check everything out. The doctor told us he had a traumatic brain injury. In the accident, he took a blow to the front part of his skull. He had difficulty due to the cartilage in the nose that was crushed. Also, he had fractured both jaws and cheekbones.
Three months passed by and he still was not himself. But, I was very grateful for his consciousness. I walked into his room. The room had a dim-lighting to it. Attached to a heart monitor, there he laid on the bed. My father had been wrapped in bandages from head to toe; only his face was exposed. Thankfully, he had been doing a lot
The meal, and more specifically the concept of the family meal, has traditional connotations of comfort and togetherness. As shown in three of Faulkner’s short stories in “The Country”, disruptions in the life of the family are often reinforced in the plot of the story by disruptions in the meal.
To begin, the food we eat can trigger our thoughts and memories of the times we had with our loved ones. Whether one is smelling burgers at a family barbeque, eating a feast during the holidays, or biting into that hot, homemade cookie, one’s senses are awakened when one smells or taste food, and it brings one back to the fond memories of the times we have family. I will be discussing my personal memories and how I identify with the father in the story,”Chili Cheese Dogs My Father And Me”, by Pat Conroy.
Never, ever, in my life has something tasted so good. We shared a meal that no restaurant could ever top. My father and I became even tighter. From that day on, regular meals tasted like plastic and hot dogs and no better than that. Dangerous dishes became our gourmet good eats.
that he go see if anyone needed help. He drove around the area but saw nothing
... I had never even seen most of the food displayed, I eagerly and respectfully tried each dish. After everyone in the room sat down at the massive table, the Rabbi picked up a glass of wine and made a prayer over it. Then, Rabbi Kanelsky passed around pieces of Challah bread to the entire table. This lunch festival was yet another ceremony dedicated to one of the member’s deceased relative. At the conclusion, the Rabbi said another prayer out loud for the deceased and the relative expressed his gratitude to everyone.
Ah, love. Love is so often a theme in many a well-read novel. In the story, As I Lay Dying, one very important underlying theme is not simply love, but the power to love. Some of the characters have this ability; some can only talk about it. Perhaps more than anyone, Addie and Jewel have this power- one which Jewel, by saving his mother twice, merges with his power to act. As the Bible would have it, he does "not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth" (1 John 3:18).
Then she saw a greasy china plate that had bread crumbs, cheese and sausage. The pungent of cheese made her stomach grumble. The man was very rude and insulted her because she couldn’t read. Then Frances headed home and on her way, she bumped into a girl with a nice, green, winter coat. She imagined her Ma in that coat, twirling around with a smile on her face. The girl’s mother said a rather offensive sentence about Frances and walked away with her daughter.
Once they were back home, they sat at the dining table and started to eat the food. After 30 minutes her Aunt called and asked her to bring over some food. When she walked over to her Aunt’s place the air was colder, but still fresh and crispy. Once she was inside her Aunt’s place she sat down at the kitchen table and said hello to her cousins and Aunt. After grabbing a glass of water from her Aunt’s refrigerator her Aunt asked her to take care of her cousins while they went out to pick up food. She gladly said yes, even though she didn’t want to, but she knew she couldn’t complain and say no. After 10 minutes her Aunt and Uncle left to pick up the food from Boston Market and she was left alone with her cousins. When her Aunt and Uncle came back they started to cook and the house was filled with the smell of turkey, ham, pumpkin and apple pie and mash potatoes with gravy. At 4:00 pm her family came over to her Aunt's place and said hello and sat down at the dining table and waited for the food to be finished cooking. Once the food was ready they all sat down and said thank you to her Aunt and Uncle for cooking the food and talked with each other while they all ate the creamy warm mash potatoes with gravy and the warm and juicy ham and turkey. After everyone finished the food they all enjoyed the sweet and creamy pumpkin and apple pie. After finishing the dinner, everyone said goodbye
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
After the appreciation and celebration, we enjoyed the cake and the foods. Later on, we went back to church. My mother called me over and introduced me to an auntie in one of the church’s room. The conference room was bright ,the sunshine had made the light so glory, as if it was the light from God. The room was filled with a big table in the center and few green plants beside the table. The plants had a fresh scent.
As I walked in to their bedroom, I found my mother sitting on the bed, weeping quietly, while my father lay on the bed in a near unconscious state. This sight shocked me, I had seen my father sick before, but by the reaction of my mother and the deathly look on my father’s face I knew that something was seriously wrong.
I enter an exquisite room welcomed by a benevolent host. I glance around and see dining tables strategically set as if the queen were to be expected. White flowers with silver sparkles adorn the tables to add a final touch. The lights are dimmed low and classical music plays in the background to create a placid atmosphere. A savory aroma fills the room making me crave the chef’s fine platter. The host leads my party to a table and offers us drinks. As we wait for dinner to begin, murmurs fill the room with general conversation.
Soon, we all sat around the dinner table enjoying my grandma’s culinary specialties. There was one dish that had stuck in my mind though, possibly because it was the last dish served that night.
As I finished eating, I heard the horn of my uncle’s car outside of my house, they seemed happy and ready to go. We all left at the same time, heading to my grandparent’s ranch. Once we get there, my cousins and I rushed to my grandfather’s fruit trees. He had apple trees, orange trees, lime trees, among others delicious fruits. As the time passed, lunch time came and everybody was called to eat. One of my uncles knows how to cook, and since he was in charge of the meat, he knew what to do to make it better. I remember the taste of that meat, it was delicious and everyone love
My most memorable family vacation took place two years ago. We went to Corsica, a French island situated in the south of France right next to Italy. I remembered waking up early excited to visit this new land. Used to take long flights, I was surprised to arrive to the destination after a one-hour flight. Even though the flight was short for me, it was stressful for my mom, she has never felt secured in a plane, probably due to the fact that she is afraid of height. When finally arrived at the destination, the dry and warm weather was there to welcome us. We all felt relief, and knew that this was the beginning of the summer. Excited, we had a lot of activities planned for the few weeks, me and my father could not wait to dive in the clear