Love and Bagels
Love is a blueberry bagel, slightly toasted, with butter running down the sides. A Thomas’ blueberry bagel, ate at the wrong spot at the kitchen table. The bagel, a light brown color, is not the object that matters in this story, but rather the person who made the bagel. Her kind hands that took the bagel out of the bag, delicately placed it on the top rack in the toaster, and turned the dial only slightly so I could have my late night snack just the way I wanted it. I had woken up at three in the morning to find my parents room completely empty, with no sign of life. I wanted a bagel, and I was not going to wait till morning. My sleepy self had woken up my grandmother, and whispered my request, standing at her bedside table. She rolled right out of bed, slipped on her slippers, and began our slow descent up the stairs,one of my hands enclosed in hers, and the other sliding up the railing. As we waited for my bagel, she opened the fridge to get the butter, and the light penetrated through the darkness. She talked to me the whole time she did this, but all I had on my mind was a blueberry bagel. The timer dinged on the toaster and my ears perked up, slightly more awake now. My grandmother pulled out my brother’s chair and helped me into his seat. She brought over my bagel, and I steadily munched on my midnight snack. Grandma Libby sat in the chair next to me and answered the question that had been in the back of my head since I discovered my parent’s room empty. I was becoming an older sister for the second time, and my parents would be home soon with my new sibling. I was not the least bit interested in this minor detail, since I still had my blueberry bagel to finish! My grandma and I sat up all night watching cartoons, and talking, although what about I can’t remember, and neither can my grandmother. It is these moments that I must remember, for they made me feel loved, even though I was too little to remember most of the details. My grandmother can no longer remember how she stayed up with me all night when I couldn’t sleep, so I must remember it for her, and never forget the love that she showed me that night and the love that she will always have for me. She sits in her usual coffee shop, at her usual table, with her usual cup of green tea.
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