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Canadian girl, born and raised in Newfoundland! I am 18 years old. One major passion of mine is writing! I have a collection of notebooks that are all filled up with poems, short stories, and ideas. Writing as always been a great way to express myself and I personally think it is the best pass time.
My favorite memory is hard to understand unless you know my least favorite memory. My favorite memory is filled with heart warming emotions and joyful tears, but I could not appreciate it at all if I didn’t experience the worse moment if my life. The worse moment was my mom’s death. I was 16 at the time but was prepared for it years ago. From the age of 12 to 16, I managed to cope with my mom being sick. I got use to the doctor appointments, the hospital visits, and her missing certain things, like birthday parties or soccer games. Nevertheless, my mom was my mom and I loved her dearly. When cancer took her life, I made my peace with it. Someone once told me that the worst feeling in the world was losing a loved one. To me, the worst feeling in the world is the feeling of loneliness. I hear people say that they are lonely because they were in a crowded place and didn’t know anyone there. To me, its not the same as loneliness. I was at my mom’s funeral when the feeling occurred. The air was still, chilling almost, as if I was in a horror movie and hadn't realize it yet. Everyone was wearing black. Even the bring colors like the pink and red roses had a dark shadow around it. I felt a coldness running up my spine, and I could feel the hair on my arms sticking up. My lips were dry and eyes were wet. I remember walking past the room where my brother and his friends were. They were talking loudly, spoke with up beat voices, and sounded like they would any other day of the week. Life was beaming out of that room. I felt abandoned by them – like they somehow moved on and left me out in the cold, locking the door behind them. I remember walking past them, heading straight down the hallway to this empty room in the very back. The walls were yellow, the floor was brown, and the curtains were pink; yet the room seemed like it was grey, as if all the colors were drained. As if the life was drained from that room. I remember sitting alone. The room was so quiet that I could hear my own heart beat. I was sitting there, and I knew I was alive yet I could swear to you that I was lifeless. That is the worst feeling of loneliness I have ever felt. Weeks later, I felt something more powerful than that. I felt love. Growing up, little girls are taught that true love is when a boy meets a girl, then they kiss. I do believe that is a form of true love, but not the only kind. When I felt love, it was the moment my best friend decided I needed to get out of the house. It was freezing outside, enough to make your drool turn into ice, but nevertheless we decided to go on a hike. We pulled on three pairs of pants, our thickest winter coat and left the house before sunrise on Saturday morning. We walked through this shoveled out path next to this great big lake. There was hardly any wind and not a snowflake in the sky. I remember the smell of the pine trees. I remember breathing in the fresh air and feeling the air fill up my lungs. I remember every concerning step that made me wonder “is this snow or ice?” and I remember taking the chance anyway. When we got to the top of the hill, the sun was just about to come up. I remember watching it so clearly. How the sky was fading into a golden yellow. I remember the sun rays stretching out as far as they could, over our heads and over the land we just walked across. The sun rays kissed every inch of my body until I couldn’t help but smile. My friend had reached out for my hand, holding it in a comforting way. She then told me that we'll get through it together. That it was okay to feel weak, or small, and that it might not seem like it at times but life will go on and so will I. She looked like an angel, my best friend did, the way the sun danced across her face and the way the cold air made her checks rosy. I felt love in that moment. Love for her, for the nature around us, for myself, and for life. It was no true loves kiss, but I swear it was true, pure love. My heart felt warm, my eyes filled with joyful tears, and my checks hurt from my smile. I felt love because I knew I was alive and it made me want to live. And that is why that hike is my favorite memory I have. If I didn’t experience the feeling of loneliness, I think I would have missed that moment of love. It would have just been another hike, another day, another sun rise. I think to truly appreciate the moments of compassion, kindness, and love, we sometimes have to understand what it feels like to not have that. The worst moment in my life will forever be my worst moment, but I choose not to regret it or hate it. Yet instead be grateful for it. I was 16 when I felt this and I could only imagine if I was much older. If that dreadful feeling came when I was 40 or older, I would have missed so many moments along the line for simply not understand what they truly were. My first true love moment, even though it was my best friend, will forever hold a special place in my heart and will forever be my favorite moment.