The shimmering blue waves crashed on the gold sand, children ran around, smiling and laughing, cherishing this moment that they’ll never forget. The flag flowed ever so smoothly through the cool breeze that pushed the beautiful ocean waves of Croatia to the soft, golden sand. She sits near the water, watching the beautiful view of the islands.
Nothing shined brighter than the water that day, not even the bullet that just entered the back of her parent’s heads, fired by a Serbian military officer that didn’t know any better but to shoot anyone on site. She watches as their blood soaks through the golden sand and flows back to the ocean, where her roots lie as she puts her hands over her ears to cover the screaming of innocent people as they beg for mercy to not be shot.
Today, I watched my grandma lie in her hospital bed, attempting to describe how beautiful that beach was — and watching her speak slowly about the comfort that beach gave her. It was as if she was still on that beach — even though she couldn’t even remember her parent’s faces.
As she struggles to remember, I stare straight into her shimmering deep blue eyes and realize… the beautiful waves of the ocean she once adored stayed with her all along, she stares back at my green eyes, filled with tears – I can barely speak Croatian and I didn’t even know one thing about her culture, I was basically a disgrace, I felt like I didn’t belong. Why did I have these stupid green eyes like the soldier that traumatized her for life? — Why didn’t I have her beautiful blue eyes like the ocean? And more importantly, Why was I only realizing this now?
That day, I stared deeply into my mirror and noticed something new about my dark green eyes, they were just like her parents. It turns out, I didn’t inherit the military officer’s eyes, I inherited her roots and her culture was with me all along, waiting for a moment to be seen, heard and expressed out loud. I sit by the beach every day now every day during the summer. Although it’s not the same beach as the one my grandma used to love in Croatia, I realized wherever I see a blue ocean, I see her shimmering blue eyes, and when I look at the beautiful palm trees and greenery reflecting into the water, I see my own eyes, the eyes I’ll never be ashamed of again. It reminded me of how my green eyes would look at her blue eyes, just like how the tall, green plants reflected over the deep, blue ocean.
At last, I watch the blue waves crash onto the gold sand in peace.
Author’s Note:
When I was younger, my grandma used to always tell me stories about a beach she used too love in her homeland, Croatia. However, I never really paid attention to them and at times found them boring. Until, recently, the day after my grandma had a stroke, I was casually cleaning her room, trying to cope with the horrible news that she might not be able to even walk or talk again, and stumbled upon an old box she kept under her bed. When I opened it, I found old photos of my grandma when she was younger on the beach with her parents. I started to remember all the stories she told me but for some reason, I couldn’t stop staring at her eyes in the photo, something about them made me realize that I never expressed the Croatian part of me in honor of her.
Lorina Fazliu | 15 | New York, USA | @lorinasocoolhahaha on Instagram
