Childhood Memory Story "The Smile"

1864 words - 7 pages

Baba Joon. My grandfather. He was my favourite relative of all my family and we had always been close. He lived in Iran so it was hard to stay in contact yet he tried his hardest to come to England as much as possible to watch his 'little angel' grow up into a woman. He would lecture me on which men would be worthy for me which I always laughed at as it ended up being somebody Iranian and he would treat me like the six year old adult I was. I would sit on his lap and gaze in wonder as he would tell me about his old school shenanigans and his incredible yet terrifying time during the war. He was my hero and protector. The last I remember of him was his smile, the smile that would show such admiration in what I was saying and that he treasured me. I was his troublesome little girl. That smile is what will remain in my memory forever. It was the last thing I saw of him.A few years ago, I travelled to Iran for the first time. I was a hyperactive eleven year old, jumping for joy when I found out that my father and I were going to Iran to visit my beloved grandfather, who I hadn't seen since my seventh birthday. My father, however, wasn't as eager as I was to go to Iran. He put on a front that he was happy although I knew him well enough to know he wasn't. Shouldn't he be happy that he could see the man who has influenced his life in so many ways for the first time in four years? I couldn't put my finger on what it could be but I could sense it wasn't going to be good.The plane journey was hell. A hot stuffy aeroplane full with Iranians saying, "Open the window! It's so hot! Why is the television not working? Why is there milk in my tea? Why is Aljazeera news not on?" etc. It was like being at home with forty parents rather than the one that I found hard to put up with anyway. When we landed, I was relieved to be liberated from the madness of the aeroplane. As my father and I collected luggage, I couldn't help thinking about my grandfather being just past those sliding door, hopefully as excited as I was to be meeting again. Not to forget my other relatives, cousins, aunts, uncles, would all be there. Waiting for me.As we progressed through the doors, I suddenly felt the heat of eyes watching me. The eyes that were longing to see their loved ones pass through the doors to only see a little girl clutching her teddy, clinging on to her dad's knee length jacket. I saw my father wave but I couldn't see past the sea of heads to work out who it was he waved to. Suddenly a burst of noise came as if from nowhere screaming, "ANNA JOON!" and I turned sharply to see my Auntie approaching me with extended arms and a smile on her face. My cousins and uncle were behind, also with my grandmother. I was pinched, prodded, hugged and kissed by people I could only call strangers at the time although I soon warmed up to them as they greeted me with presents and money, which I gratefully accepted. I was completely exhausted by the time my family had filled me up with...

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