I had just spent my summer by my grandmother’s side. We spent most of our time in silence broken up by moments when the bedroom door opened and the Golden Girls theme song from down the hall would fill the stillness, as the nurses gave her meds. Other times the noise of my sniffles would jerk her awake. Although uncomfortable, the routine of sitting with her in silence is what got me through the day and to the next. When the funeral came and passed, my routine was broken and I was left with an even more uncomfortable silence. I put in my earbuds and blasted music to take away my silence. I don’t know what I was listening to, but anything to fill the quiet. As I filled my mind with noise I found a fluffy leopard print hat. I thought it was so absurd that I bought it for 99 cents. Each morning I would try to get the puffiness of the crying from the night before to leave my face. I would eventually give up and just put my hat on to attempt to cover my tiredness. During one of my afternoons at my grandpa’s house, he mentioned how my hat was very similar to one my grandma had once had. I retold the story of finding my new prized possession for 99 cents at the thrift store down the road. He had donated the hat that comforted me in my grief a few days prior. Although I didn’t know the fluffy leopard print hat was from my grandmother when I purchased it, I immediately felt a soothing presence to it and even more so now knowing who it belonged to. 

– Sophia B

Relationship:  Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more Great-grandchild of im/migrant or more