Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about the people in my life who have shaped me into who I am today—the way each of them have left little pieces of themselves within me. I’ve started to notice these little pieces more and more within myself, and it makes me smile every time I recognize one. It reminds me that I’m not alone because I carry the comfort of them within me. After all, we are a mosaic of all of those who raised us.
I first noticed this a few weeks ago during my English discussion. My GSI had just handed out a paper with bolded letters on it, and as soon as I got it I found myself tracing over the bold letters. I didn’t think much of it at first, but as the weeks went by I kept doing it, with every new paper I received. This got me thinking, and it brought me to a happy memory from my childhood. My Grandma used to always trace bold words, from newspaper headings to magazine titles. When I was little I was always curious about what she was doing, so one day I asked her. She showed me how she would trace the letters, and I ended up loving it. Every time I visited her, we would race to the newspapers and magazines to see who could get to the bold letters first. It quickly became one of my favorite things to do with her. Now, when I catch myself tracing bold letters, it reminds me of her. Even though I can no longer be with her, it feels as if she’s right there with me. Parts of her are within me, and they always will be.
I noticed another piece of this mosaic just last weekend. My friend Eesha and I went to Walnut Creek for some shopping, and on our way home, we decided to get Chick-fil-A for dinner. After getting our food we decided we would wait until we got home to eat our sandwiches, but we couldn’t resist eating our fries on the drive. I don’t know about you, but I love ketchup–as does my mom. My whole life,whenever we’d be driving and eating, my mom always made sure she had her ketchup on the dashboard so she could still dip her fries. It was so normal to me that I grew up doing it too.
But I didn’t realize it might not be so common until Eesha and I were buckling up in the car, ready to go, and I set the ketchup on the dash. She looked at me, confused, and asked, “What are you doing?” I explained, and she told me she’d never seen anyone do that before. This small moment got me thinking about my mom and how she’s shaped me into who I am. Even in the smallest thing—like putting ketchup on the dash of my car—I could feel that connection to her.
These are just two of the ways the people who have raised me left their mark. Yet I know there are countless others, like my dad, who gave me my love of rock music, or my brother, who got me into quoting movies. Everyone who has touched my life has left an imprint, adding to the mosaic of my life. I encourage you all to take a moment to reflect upon your life and consider who has left a lasting impact on you, whether it be ketchup on the dashboard or tracing magazine covers.