I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to stay home with my parents and do nothing. Never, except for once when I was in the first grade.

It was a weekend during winter vacation, my dad was away on a business trip and my mom would have to attend a conference that she couldn’t miss on Saturday morning. That left her with only one option, to leave me at my grandparents’ apartment for the entire weekend. I was certainly not a fan of this option, I had gone to my grandparents’ apartment countless times before having to stay the entire weekend. All those times that I did go, I had a fantastic time, my grandma spoiled me with ice cream sandwiches, candy, chocolate, and various delicious foods. My grandpa played chess, checkers, and Ping Pong with me. He’d also taken me to play in the playground, and afterward, he took me to McDonald's and get me whatever I wanted. But, I’d never wanted to stay the entire night there without my parents.

But, this time it was different. 

This was the first time I had to spend the whole day without seeing my mom or dad in my six-year-old life.

On Friday, I spent the whole day moping around my house, knowing I would get dropped off when my mom was done packing so I did everything I could to slow her down. Whenever I knew she was looking for something I would take the object and try my best to hide it somewhere, yet my mom could still find it within thirty seconds. Despite my best efforts, she finally finished packing and took me on the bus. Usually, I loved riding the bus as a child, my family often took me to ride the bus around the city. However, today I felt the pit at the bottom of my stomach open up, I felt like I had swallowed my mom’s luggage whole. When we got to my grandparents’ apartment I trodded along and walked into the elevator unhurriedly. The elevator which I’d always complained about being too slow suddenly felt too quick for me. The previously joyous light and music now felt like a horror movie elevator with the lights flickering and no music playing. The previously large hallway now felt as if it was closing in on me, trapping me in a lonely abyss, thankfully we reached the door to the apartment. As my mom rang the doorbell I took a deep breath and my grandma opened the door. I saw her kind and gentle face and calmed down a little bit.

My mom quickly said goodbye and left. I immediately forgot what I was so nervous and scared about. I happily ran around the living room as my grandpa chased me down to wash my hands. It was late when I arrived so my grandma made my favorite dish; tomato noodles with cilantro. I slurped it down as fast as I could and she tucked me into bed, I fell asleep slowly as my grandma told a distant fairy tale with no thought about my mom.

I was woken up on Saturday morning by the smell of chocolate bread. My grandpa woke up at 6 am to get freshly baked chocolate bread from the bakery. I instantly hopped out of bed and ran to the kitchen, forgetting to put on my socks. I saw a massive table of different breakfast items, all the mouthwatering foods flooded the table with tons of wonderful aromas. I devoured the chocolate bread and inhaled the homemade soy milk. Then, my grandpa took me to go play in the gated community around the apartments, he also brought some bread crumbs so I could feed the koi in the community pond, and he showed me the lush pear and apple trees he planted. He took me to McDonald's and picked up an apple pie and an ice cream cone for me. We walked back to the apartment and my grandma had already made lunch, a whole roasted chicken. When my mom came to pick me up later in the afternoon I didn’t even want to leave, I begged her to stay another night but we had to go home.

When I got home that night lying on my bed, I just had one question for myself. Why was I so afraid to go to my grandparent’s house for no particular reason? I wasn’t able to answer this question for a long time, I truly had no idea why I was so afraid because my grandparents were always amazing to me. Now, looking back on it as a 10th grader I think I was just nervous because it was something I had never done before and in general I didn’t like to try new things I was uncertain about. This habit likely cost me a lot over the years and I probably missed out on many good opportunities and caused a lot of unnecessary stress. If I looked forward to going to my grandparent’s apartment my Friday would have been a lot better than being stressed the whole time. In short, writing about this memory has allowed me to realize that I need to be willing to take risks and try new things I’ve never done, and also to not judge how things are going to be without giving them a fair chance.