My grandmother will turn 90 in a week. Not many people ever get the chance to say that. I tell people my grandmother is 90 and they all congratulate me, as if I had something to do with it. They say, "You're lucky you've got good genes," or it's just a, "wow."
We had a surprise party for her on Saturday, and as I looked across the dinner table, I realized that it's not her good genes I'm so lucky to have, but her in general.
My grandmother is Armenian. When she was three years old, she and her sister came through Ellis Island to escape persecution in their home country. My great great uncle was drawn and quartered and left on a doorstep. They had to get out. They left for America seeking a better life, bringing with them very little and setting out to meet the rest of their family, a few siblings and a couple cousins and uncles who had come before them.
To say it wasn't easy is a great understatement. I don't actually know how they did it, but they did. And their posterity thanks them immensely. But through it all, growing up in a new, strange place, living with adversity because of their race both in their homeland and in America, some how, my grandmother turned out to be one of the most fantastically optimistic people I've ever met. Nothing gets her down.
It's funny when you look at your parents and grandparents and realize where your traits and attributes come from. I have my dad's eyes and hair, my mom's smile and cheek bones. I have my dad's laugh, and his habit of eating everyone else's food. And I have my mom's sensitivity and talkative nature.
But then I look at my grandparents. All of those traits come from them. My maternal grandmother was about 5 feet tall had the same blue eyes that I have; she was just as stubborn, and just as gossip-prone as I am. My paternal grandmother is the same, about 4' 9", stubborn and sure, but still sweet, that is until you give her a juicy story. I was doomed to be a little person with a big mouth. It's in my heritage.
As I watched my grandmother this weekend, and thought about all she's done in her life, all the people she's met and all the things she's seen. I became more and more proud of myself. At the age of 20, things are really coming together for me.
I was just named Managing Editor for Elon's student newspaper, The Pendulum. I had an article published on the front page of the Burlington Times-News. And over the past few weeks, I have sort of mapped out the rest of my life. I've decided to go to grad school for art history or art criticism, something I've always loved but just never thought I could do.
I still miss London every day, but I think my life is slowly leading me back there. We'll see.
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