Blog Reviews

Kaylyn Parson's Blogs:

Kaylyn's blogs were very intriguing. I have to say she is talented for all that hard work she put in her writing! Great job! I got to learn more about Kaylyn and her writing style. She approaches topics by choosing very ordinary topics and making them interesting to read. The titles of the posts are clever and they go well with the writing. I think she did a great job of getting her point across.

I like how she writes in a honest manner by simply putting her feelings in the posts at the time of the events. I believe her writing style is interesting and she cleverly introduces us to her personal thoughts and opinions on different matters of life. I believe that I will truly enjoy reading her future posts because her style of writing is one of a kind.

A few of my favorites:
In "A Struggle to Continue," Kaylyn does a great job of giving us a great sense of the struggle she writes about. I think it was really clever writing about a ship that is lost at sea (I hope I am right), yet doesn't say it outright. She uses great word choice, so the audience can understand the situation clearly. I think that this is a great blog to start reading from her collection. It only makes me want to read more of what she has to offer. It gives me a great idea of how creative she can get with writing. This was a great article.

In "Appreciating the Craft," I learned about Kaylyn's appreciation for other authors' writing. Through her writing, we learn how she approaches the different styles of writing and what she picks up from it. Her reviews on both essays that she chose are detailed and give us a clear idea on what these essays might be about.
Kaylyn really proves her appreciation toward these crafts by simply saying it and showing it by picking a few things that she found to interesting to her. She did a great job concluding her observation by encouraging readers to "stop and look." It is an act of motivating people to read and understand the art and the process as well.

In "Death in Nature," I was amused by the simple fact that she described the life of a fly. She brought out things that never crossed my mind. It was really interesting to read about a fly and yet learn so much about the author's imagination. She writes what she sees and thinks in a very unique manner.

Michelle Nulliner's Blogs:

Michelle's blogs were really interesting to read. I absolutely loved the simplicity of the matters, and how she takes these simple matters and intertwines them with her strong writing skills to captivate our interest even deeper. She does a great job of providing the readers what they want to learn about her and her writing abilities.

I believe that she can gets her point across and provides the necessary detail to further entertain or inform her audience. Michelle's writing style is intriguing because it encompasses talented writing skills, detailed imagination, and creativity.

My favorites:
In "Five Minutes of My Day," Michelle cleverly gives a great picture of how five minutes of one's time can consume so much more than we think it can. I enjoyed how she incorporates her endeavors and goals as well as her worries in a blog that is only supposed to be on the short five minutes of one's life.

In "Feminism," I found the light humor and the strength that Michelle possesses. I like how shes uses one event in her life that allows us to see one strong opinion that she has on certain situations. I like how she begins it and ends with the light humor and a sense of pride when she chooses to do as she please.

In "Hermit Crab," Michelle gives a great example of this type of essay. One thing that I would have recommended is a better title. Besides that, she did a great job of giving readers a great list of how to be successful. I like how she lists the three main points in her essay as separate paragraphs. Separating them like that offers emphasis on those points and grabs readers attention. It also warns readers that those are the main points that will be discussed.

How to procrastinate on writing a paper

Well, start by ignoring the assignment for a few days. A week. Maybe start the day before it is due. Maybe do it on the day it is. A few hours before class. Whatever you decide on, procrastinate well. Just do it a day before it is due, so you can have more time to procrastinate before it actually is due.

Start by cleaning your room. Definitely make sure your desk is clear of unnecessary items, then put your books needed or the laptop on your desk. Clean your laptop if it isn't clean, so, you can be able to see what you are typing clearly. Then sit and open your books and figure out what your assignment requirements are. Open a word document and start typing your name, professor's name, course title, and date it. Go get a drink of water. Clear your recycle bin and get rid of the unnecessary documents, pictures, or whatever is being stored on the laptop for no apparent reason. Check your email. Sort everything in separate files. Permanently delete the deleted emails. Check your junk mail. Do a little research on your paper assignment if research is required. Try to come up with a thesis while you are checking myspace, facebook, or a blog. Check your time.

Once you start getting nervous about your paper. Just start working on it as soon as you have checked your email, myspace, and facebook again.

What are you waiting for? Procrastinate now!

Waiting

Right after work, I called Lisa to meet up with me at Friday's to eat dinner and chitchat. I was starving, and I didn't want to go home just yet. Besides, it was just my mom who was at home. Everyone else was too busy to eat together anymore. I finally decided on the closest location for us both. I sent her a text, "The one on 59th." She responded ten minutes later, "Ok." That means she is busy at work, and she will probably take forever to come, and until we order our food and wait for it, I will die of starvation. "How long will it take you to get there?" No response. I was stuck in traffic anyways, so she can take her time. Fifteen minutes later, I was on the highway heading to my destination, which felt like millions of miles away to my growling stomach.

She patiently waited for me. For anyone. The food was ready. She knew the type of food I loved, and how I liked it prepared. She didn't have to ask me anymore. She was beginning to look at her watch every couple of minutes. The time was going by so slow. She must have been thinking that I could be coming in any moment now. The sadness was visible in her tired eyes. She has been patient for so long, and she wasn't about to give up.

I blasted the radio to forget about my hunger. I sang aloud, and kept checking my phone. No response from Lisa yet. What happened to her? I hope she doesn't make me wait long. I kept thinking how much I hate waiting! Well, maybe she is already there and forgot to text me back.

The food was getting cold. She regretted not waiting a little longer. She was scared that I would start complaining about the food being cold. I never thought I was so selfish.

"59th and Bell here I come!" I said when I was literally two minutes away. I saw Lisa's car already parked in front of TGIF. I walked in, and asked for Lisa's table. The handsome waiter looked around and looked at his list. He seemed confused and said that he would be right back. He came back, "Are you sure she is already here?" I wasn't. So, I called her twice. She didn't pick up. Maybe that wasn't her car. I decided to wait for another five minutes. My phone finally vibrated, "Hey, girl sorry! I just left work. I will be there in 15 minutes. Order our food already. Choose anything with chicken for me." That was okay with me.

My mom couldn't wait any longer as her tear plummeted on the table with the empty chairs. She left the food untouched and headed to bed.

(Not a true story I promise! And, I am wondering if this works as a braided story??)

Trying to make ends meet...

J-O-B

I was supposed to be off today, which means I get to sleep in. But I got a phone call at 7:30 A.M. from an unfamiliar number. I let it ring while I tried to keep my eyes closed shut some more. My phone vibrated. Someone left me a voicemail. As soon as the thought of it possibly being an employer calling me in for a job interview, my eyes opened wide to check my message. "Hey, Reata. It's Debbie. Kelly called in sick, can you please try to make it in an hour or so. Please call me back if you can." Great... only my manager, I thought. I felt bad, so, I called her. After fully knowing that there were no other options but for me to come in, I decided to get up and get ready to go to work. I kept thinking about how I was supposed to be catching up on my homework today, and it just upset me. However, it turned out to be an okay day.

Would you like to try anything on?

When I quit working for ASU as an office assistant for the College of Nursing, I set out to look for a decent job. I must have not looked hard enough because I settled for the first low-paying job I found. I was afraid of not having a job, so I said yes. I started working for the diamond store back in December of 2008. And, boy, was that a horrible time to start! The busiest time of the year for any jewelry store: CHRISTMAS! I started as a seasonal cashier for two months, and I hated every minute of it. Because the managers liked me so much, they wanted to make me permanent. I stayed because, at this point, I was lucky I even had a job, still have a job.

May 14th

May 14th is seriously a month away! I don't know if I should be excited or afraid. Right now, I am feeling both. My last semester of college has been hectic, especially with being a full-time student, working for 35 hours a week, and having so much church responsibilities. I can't wait to finish all these 5 English courses that I am taking with decent grades. So, the bigger issue is what am I supposed to do after I get my English degree? Continue schooling? Become a writer and how do I do that? Stay at the job that I am at until I find a decent one? Shoot me if I stay for another month of being used.

Leaving Childhood Behind

Looking past the brown leaves covering the cement and past the old tree barks, I see a very young me at the age of 12 and my sisters running up and down the alley behind my house back home.

It's Fall there, I can't stop looking at the beautiful red, yellow, and brown leaves scattered everywhere. Our tiny feet walking over them, I can hear the crisp sounds so clearly right now as I stand on the bare cement ground of my yard during the spring season here in Arizona.

Taking a deep breath in, I can clearly smell the rain awaiting to erupt through the clouds as I try to tag my sisters. Out of breath from running, we decide to go inside for a quick drink. Mom didn't let us out anymore because it started to pour outside.

So, there I sat on the couch in the living room facing the window to not miss the drops of rain that hit the ground. I imagined myself free and older. Much older. The picture was vague and I gave up.

Now that I am 22, I refuse to imagine myself any older, and I don't foresee the future. I just live each day as it comes. I walk over to my car and pull the handle. I decide to go to work a bit early. I hear Chicago calling me, but I continue looking ahead and go through life at present time.

Review on: "Afternoon of an American Boy" & "The Drama Bug"

I found both of these essays to be really interesting. They inspire me in a way to write about my personal life that I am most comfortable with to give a vivid reflective essay portraying the meaning I am trying to get across. Reading both stories, I learn different aspects of writing that I need to improve on, to better, or that I unconsciously use.

E.B. White's "Afternoon of an American Boy" gives me an idea of how descriptions of character or appearances really affect the story as a whole. Without the detailed description of Elwyn's shyness toward girls, I wouldn't understand why he couldn't approach Eileen or what could have possibly went wrong on the afternoon he took her out. I like how White writes about himself subjectively. He gives me a detailed description of what he thought was bad about him. He hated the fact that he was shy, and he told me what he meant by describing a situation rather than just saying he couldn't approach girls. With this type of writing, I have learned how to approach my future writing that begs for detail.

I believe David Sedaris' "The Drama Bug" is so honest and entertaining. Sedaris really gives a great portrayal of his early childhood. It seems like he really isn't keeping anything back, even though he might possibly be holding many things back, but it is just the way that he opens up and becomes quite frank with the audience. I think it is all about his style of writing. He smoothly says something and smoothly transitions into something else while still keeping the reader's attention and at the same time, he doesn't drift off from the main topic at all. I like his essay because of those main reasons. I would definitely use his style of writing as a way of approaching my writing.

Overall, both stories were great. I have learned so much from just analyzing White and Sedaris' writing style.

So, it came in 3's...

I watched the sky for a very long time from the time it was blue until it finally turned black with shiny stars. I was wasting time laying down on the swing instead of reading "Crime and Punishment" for my World Literature course. Many thoughts came to mind and I argued with myself about a few other. I wondered what I would do after graduation, when my sister will finally move here, when my boyfriend will graduate, when he will ask me to marry him, and what my wedding or my future life would be like. I held the book and finally opened it to the first chapter, but then I wondered what I would name my kids.

Mom always thought I was the smartest in the family. I would laugh whenever she would say that. I hated the fact that she would praise me in front of people. I would blush as soon as my name would come up and walk away as fast as I can. I am the first one to graduate from a university in the family. So what? Mom and Dad take too much pride in it. It's okay. I will let them do as they please.

Eva finally got married to Tony, her true love. She always wanted to get married and leave the house so she can finally move on with her life. To me, she seemed like she was rushing, but hey, it's working fine for her. I always wished she would finish college, but she gave up too quick. She only had a few more classes, then, she would be making thousands of dollars just helping companies with websites rather than being a personal banker. She would have been the first to graduate college in my family.

Cellphone Stories...

Insurance
Let's just say I am so glad I have insurance on my Dare phone because if it is one thing I do best, it's dropping my phone a couple of times during a week. I tried the plastic cover for a few months when it was still new, but it just made my phone too bulky so out it went. And boy, was that a mistake! One day, I was planning to do some warming up on the mat at the gym, so, I purposely threw my phone on the mat to free my hands. The camera lens landed right on top of the pearl chain I had attached to my phone and broke the lens. Then, of course, that was followed by a few more concrete slams that miraculously did not do any large damage. My insurance will cover the harm done to the camera lens and the body. I knew paying extra $5 a month would pay off in the end...

Saita's Cellphone
So, my youngest sister finally got a cellphone not too long ago. She turned 18, and mom finally thought she should get a cell after Saita's many failed attempts. Two months and two billing statements later, Mom wants to cancel her phone. Apparently, my sister does not understand that she has only a few minutes to share with Mom, and she needs to be careful about going over because every minute over costs money. After a few more complaints from Mom, Saita's cellphone will be confiscated until further notice.

Stupid iPhones
Those cellphones make me so mad! My boyfriend and a few of my close friends own one. I just don't understand why you can't send a picture to an iPhone, yet it does the most coolest things. Or how come this cellphone does not have a forwarding message ability. It is jam packed with creative technological abilities such as playing air hockey or has the best navigation system, yet some of the most important features are not included. Give me a break!

High Above

Struggling to clear my mind from all the matters of life, I could not enjoy the nature of the huge green trees and the clear blue sky in the first two minutes. After forcing myself, I looked at the trees and realized how I take the beautiful nature for granted. I always try to find ways to clear up my mind or stop stressing about a particular thing, but I just realized that the best way is to simply look outside my bedroom window that peers over my backyard. As simple as that, a backyard view is the cure.

The big trees in my neighbor's yard across ours are so enormous, they hide the entire two-story house. The trees' beautiful green leaves flourish over the brick wall separating us. I remember how those trees turned brown and all the leaves fell just a few months ago; I was able to see the neighbor's windows and the house in its entirety. Three months later, the trees grew back to their original condition. This is a reminder of how we, as a people, can survive the ups and downs of life. We may feel down, but we eventually get back to our normal selves. Us and nature are connected in simple ways that we do not take the time to think about.

To the left side of our backyard, I was able to see my neighbor's yard. I hope Gloria fully recovered breast cancer. I have not seen her in a while. The way she takes care of her garden reminds me of how mom takes great care of her fruit trees and the flower trees surrounding the Virgin Mary sculpture.

High above the trees and the houses and the roses, there is something greater. A clear, blue sky covering billions of people and connecting us all together in nature's own beautiful way. Looking above, I realized how small problems are in comparison to the enormous beauty of nature.

Priceless Time

The stupid alarm on my nightstand didn't ring this morning. Better yet, the time has frozen at 7 PM. It's going back to Walmart tomorrow, and I'm getting my $10 back! I jumped out of bed and ran straight to the bathroom to wash my face and do a speedy teeth brushing. To think that this piece of tiny junk was reliable upset me. There I was standing in the stationary aisle at Walmart finally investing in an alarm clock. I scanned every type of alarm clock sitting on the shelves. The different types of cool colors made the decision even harder, so I started thinking...

Which one should I get? The very-thin-red-cellphone-looking-one-easy-for-travel that flips open/close or the gray one? Well, my room furniture is oak and my desk, chair, and bookshelf are black. So, I should go with the black, traditional alarm clocks. Wait, this one uses electricity. The others use batteries. That will save up some electricity. But what if the battery dies on a very important day, and I won't wake up? Ehh.. what's the worse that can happen? I am going to go with the black Timex made thin and easy for travel. Final decision! Hmm.. actually, let me look at the one in the far back.

"Are you done?" my sister approached me.
"Not yet."
She stood behind me tapping her gym shoes on the waxed floor. "Come on, I am tired."
I looked at her, and she reminded me of me. It's like looking in the mirror. Both of our curly hair was frizzy and pulled back. Our sweatpants, tank top, and gym shoes would have tricked anyone into believing that we're health maniacs who work out everyday. We were both exhausted, and anyone could have seen it through our eyes. Our small feet were getting ready to give out.
"I am tired from working out too, but help me choose an alarm clock."
"Go with whatever."
I triumphantly took my Timex and walked to the register...

My alarm clock put me to shame. On the other hand, my backup alarm, my cell, must have rang three times. I wouldn't know for sure because I didn't hear it. If I had heard it, I wouldn't have woke up seven minutes before I was supposed to be heading out to work. But let's just say my cell is not going back to the Verizon store. I'll try sleeping early tonight.

It Comes Alive

It has great value in my household and it's an honor to have in my room. I have three siblings living at home along with my mother and myself. We all have one in our separate rooms. It usually just sits there unused in some rooms more than others. I pick up mine when I really try hard to make time. My excuses are still "I am really tired," and "I work too many hours and I have so much homework. I just can't find time." Some may call them excuses, but that is my current life.

I take great care of my Bible. Before heading to bed, I grab it and begin my prayers along with the reading. It sits right on my nightstand next to my bed. So convenient. Yet, I still have a hard time reaching for it on my tedious nights. Many probably think that it is just a storybook written to teach morals, but not my Bible. Mine comes alive whenever I read it. I relate to the characters as the characters relate to me. They talk to me and make me realize what I am missing out on. Wisdom reassures me. My fear of the Lord brightens up my knowledge. My sins scream back at me whenever I read John 3:16.

I learn more than just morals, I learn to become. I change. I become strong and faithful. Honest. Righteous. I learn to love. I dig deep down in my heart and know what is missing. My Bible does that for me by not letting it just sit on my nightstand. In order for effect to take place, it has to come alive. I have to breathe life into it the way the main character of this book did for me, so I am holding on to my promise the same way He held onto His. I am off to read the Good Book...

Telling it Straight...

I like this week's blog question because I get to write about the readings that we have read freely, and I can truly say that they do help me write these blogs. Two of my favorite articles we have read for this course are: “Reading History to My Mother” by Robin Hemley and “The Clan of One-Breasted Women” by Terry Tempest Williams.

I like Hemley's "Reading History to My Mother" because it holds genuine truth. Actually both stories do, but what I really like about this particular one is he writes about something so simple as sight, yet its his mother's losing sight. So, he immediately grabs a reader into his life, and he manages to do it in a way that allows the reader to feel for his mother and completely understand the situation he is in. His article contains of the simple conversations anyone can go through in one's life; however, it is the history that begs readers to keep reading.

One thing I noticed about both of the articles I chose was the clever titles of both. Personally, a title has so much to do with my choosing or liking a story. I have noticed that I have had this interest in titles, and you will see that I try to be creative with mine. That is something that will be passed on to my future writings. Tempest's “The Clan of One-Breasted Women” is so beautifully written. What makes me admire this story is its truth, simplicity, and commonality that many people can relate to. It incorporates culture, the injustices people face, the powers of this world, and it all ties into the term: family.

Both writings are an encouragement to writing with clarity, genuineness, and originality. I do believe that they motivate me to write in a way that grabs my own attention and keeps me focused on what I have to say. I would definitely recommend these stories to people that want to learn more about reflective essay style.

My Parents' Most Tragic Day....

There they were, so distraught and so young. My parents had just gotten married a year before mama gave birth to my first sibling, Rena. She was absolutely beautiful with her golden, shiny hair and green eyes. Everyone was shocked to see how long she was for a baby, and how blond her hair was for an Assyrian baby. My mom was the happiest person until my 3 month old sister stopped eating and kept throwing up. From a healthy and a very energetic baby suddenly became shockingly sick. The doctors didn't know what was wrong with Rena. They checked every part of her, and did all the tests. Nothing came up. She started withering away in front of my 19-year-old distressed mother.

My mom spent those three days doing the impossible and just crying because she had started losing hope. The medicine the doctor prescribed wasn't working. My father felt helpless because he couldn't do anything to save his daughter, but only console his wife.

On the last night that Rena was alive, mom and dad were sitting right next to each other watching her take her breaths strenuously in her little bassinet. She finally went to asleep as my parents vigilantly looked over her. My mom put her head on my dad's shoulder and her eyes would no longer stay open. My dad's eyes stayed open and focused right on Rena's little chest until she took her last breath. He didn't move and his eyes never left her. A few minutes later, my mom jumped as if someone told her to wake up and quickly peered over the bassinet. She just knew she was gone, "She's gone??" Silence.

Friendly Vampire...

I don't really have time to watch movies, but I wish I did because I absolutely love films. The last movie I watched, which I am too embarrassed to say was Twilight. I guess that is not a looong time ago, but it sure feels like it.
There are many features of this movie that I liked, but I was kind of disappointed it didn't do justice to all the hype it caused. I have never read the books, but I was still disappointed.
Overall, the film was entertaining and it had a good plot, so I would imagine if I had time, I would enjoy reading the books. Elements of good filmmaking can really inspire anyone to write evocative nonfiction prose. However, Twilight is far from being nonfiction; it still motivates someone to write anything because one's imagination expands after watching an artful and inspiring movie about a friendly vampire who falls in love with a teenage girl.
I guess what I am trying to say is the sky is the limit with this movie because when I first watched it, I was amazed at how different the plot was from all the vampire movies. It inspires me to write about the normal things in life and make it extraordinary. I love writing, so when an opportunity comes up I jot notes down to write about it later. Watching the great features of Twilight such as its creative plot or simplistic, yet engaging setting can help me just write about whatever comes to mind from my past, my family's, or a friend's past. Onscreen, the teenage girl moves in with her lonely father while her mother lives with her new man. Good filmmaking provides background, and that is what Twilight does. He gives us a background of the family, which stimulates the viewers' mind allowing them to relate.

The Alarm Went Off...

So I recently started working at a Jewelry Store, and I had to open this morning with the stand-in manager, who is still in training I should add. We were the only two opening this morning, and I was a little surprised, but I was sure the manager knew what she had to do to turn off the alarm, turn on the system, and get all registers up and working.
She was twenty minutes late, "Good morning! Sorry, I had a flat tire."
I didn't mind it at all; she is too sweet to be upset at. She unlocked and pushed the gate up and asked me if I knew how to turn off the alarm. I got a little nervous, and replied as if I was asking her, "No?"
In my mind, all I kept thinking was PLEASE GOD TELL ME SHE KNOWS THE CODE THAT TURNS OFF THE ALARM because I sure as heck don't!
She said, "Oh. Well, I wrote it down in my book, I will find it." Too calm, yet I was relieved, but not until she came out of the backroom to tell me the alarm wouldn't turn off with the code that she has. The alarm kept beeping and a female voice kept saying, "Please disable alarm." "Please disable alarm." ahhh...
I called the district manager, no answer. The manager tried calling the other employees, no answer. 58, 59, 60 seconds! ALARM went off and we frantically started pressing the code in with no luck and making calls. Finally the district manager calls, and she can't do anything because the code she has is different. The phone and the alarm were blaring at the same time. The security called to see if everything was okay. I explained the situation, but I highly doubt she believed me because she hung up on me. I still don't understand why. The mall security stood at the gates. For ten minutes the alarm blared; it was really embarrassing. Then we called a sister company in the same mall, the manager that worked there was a former employee, and she knew the code. My manager was shouting in the phone because the alarm was too loud. "Alright, I will try that code and see what happens."
"Alarm disabled."
We just looked at each other's frazzled faces, and laughed. It was too early in the morning for this type of stress. I remember telling her, "This was definitely a learning experience." She said to me, "There must be a fall moon out."

This is difficult

Three events that are hard for me to write about have to be the events that mainly deal with my feelings because feelings are so personal and private. I can't always be so open about my deep thoughts and emotions about certain things. It may seem like I am blabbing on about nothing, and that is only because I can't think of three events that are difficult to write about, yet still write about. You are going to have to excuse me for not being so descriptive in this post.
One thing I always had a hard time writing about in the past was about the death of my grandfather, but I noticed that writing about it helped me emotionally. It helped me mature and realize that death is only part of life. Death may seem difficult to talk about, but as a growing Christian, I learned not to be afraid of dying. So, I wrote about the death of my grandfather in the prior blog, and it made me realize how much I appreciated him and still do.
Another difficult event would be when I found out my cousin got shot in a drive-by shooting in Chicago that he had nothing to do with. I didn't know about it until later; my family was hiding it from everyone. Finding out so late bothered me so much. But my cousin is okay now. I guess that is all that matters.
The last event I can briefly write about is when my mom and my youngest sister got in a bad accident on the highway. My mom somehow managed to get the car to make a 360 a couple of times on the highway and then fall right in a ditch. They walked away with no scratches; the cop was amazed and he even forgot to write an actual report. When my sister remembers it, she cries. I hate knowing that I wasn't there for them.

Fallen Hero

His persona was definitely one of a kind. One that begged for respect without him asking for it. He was down to earth, light-hearted, yet so powerful and had full authority. My grandfather was a man of word, of honor, and of power always putting his family back in order. He would not tolerate my aunt being mad at my mother, my uncle upset at grandmother, my cousin upset at one my aunts, or my father mad at my mother. If someone was upset, God forbid, he would force them to reconcile. I loved that about him. He was the glue that kept our family together. He brought us together for every holiday and for every occasion he can possibly come up with.

The last time he had authority over us was February 25^th, 2000. We all gathered at the Assyrian Church of the East for his funeral, my first funeral experience. And mind you, I didn’t know they actually do a viewing before all the praying starts. So, there I was walking behind my brother down the church aisle the whole time. Everyone was already sitting, so I kept my head down. I felt everyone’s eyes watching me as their heads turned toward me with every step I took. I tried to block out the wailing sounds of my family members, but I failed. My brother finally made a left to have a seat in one of the pews. I looked up and to my shock, I saw the hero of the family lying lifeless in his coffin. My whole body shivered.

I couldn’t bear looking at him. He was no longer smiling with his missing front tooth showing. The way he used to laugh kept running through my head. My fallen hero was no longer going to be sitting in his regular chair for Thanksgiving dinner, or Christmas. He was no longer going to make me laugh. He was no longer going to call us to come over, and end up watching one of his Clint Eastwood movies or Lion King for the one hundredth time. He wasn’t going to be there for my 13^th birthday. My memories of him still live and his traditions have not subsided.

East to West

January 21, 2009
My dad is a translator working overseas for the American military. For six months I have not seen him. He writes me emails to explain the dire situation in Iraq. He has been staying at some kind of American base, but he really can't tell me too much information; he is not allowed to he says. He seems happy working there, but I sense through his writing that he misses us. I try to fight back my tears when I read his sweet emails telling me to take care of mom and to tell my sisters to do good in school.

He said he would call today, but I have been patiently waiting and mom keeps checking if our phone is working properly. I always wonder what Iraq is like. I always hear that it is not too safe over there, but I am sure it is like America in so many ways. It has to be. I am going to have to ask dad to give me a good description and to take pictures when he has some free time.

January 22, 2009
Dad finally called this morning before I headed out to my boring job. I had a good chat with him before I started passing the phone down to my mom and my other siblings. We talked about school, my job, and I asked him to send me an email with some pictures. After work today I checked my email, he had sent me five pictures. One picture was of him and the people he works with in their uniform. Other pictures were of the churches or the buildings that were recently bombed by terrorists. A feeling of fear for my dad engulfed me as tears streamed down my eyes. The message on the bottom said:
Sweetie, if you are trying to figure out if Iraq and America are similar, they are as similar as they are different. New York isn't exactly California, but still considered America. Mid East isn't exactly the West, but still considered a region containing humanity.
Love, Dad