Last night I packed up the tent in my Grandma’s backyard. It may seem like a simple task, but the stories and meanings behind this task was very heart breaking and emotional. Packing up the tent felt like breaking a fragile porcelain bowl filled with precious droplets of memories—memories of my family and our one-year journey together. Nostalgia and sorrow flooded over me like a tidal wave crashing into an earthen wall. Why does packing up this tent bring me so much pain? Why is this empty space covered by a tarp have so much meaning and significance? Continue reading Packing Up the Tent
