The House on Heritage Lane Emily Boucher

It's Just a Name

In 2001 the most popular girl baby name in the U.S. was Emily, 25,051 little girls that year were born with the name Emily. I was one of them. I’ve had to write out my full name on my school papers since kindergarten because there were two Emily Bs, most kids didn’t start doing that until 4th grade. I hate how normal it is, I’m jealous of those who have one, a name you didn’t meet a million of. I want a name that when people hear, they think of me not 10 other girls. I want something that isn’t the same as everyone else because that’s not I'm not the same as everyone else. I want name with a story, something I can be proud of. My parents just liked the name, I’m not named after anyone or it doesn’t have any special meaning to them, it’s just a name.

People with the name Emily are said to have a deep inner desire for travel and adventure, and want to set their own pace in life without being governed by tradition. I’m not going to lie, though I don't love my name that is pretty spot on. I like the way that sounds, it sounds powerful and independent. I unfortunately have not even gone out of the country yet but I have plans and I’m going to make sure I follow through with them, I want to live with no regrets, I want to see everything and go everywhere, I wanna do more than live in a small town my whole life where not much happens. Travel to Paris, London, Venice, Rome, Athens, Egypt, and much much more, and I’m not going to let anyone stop me. It also means diligent, striving, hard working, stubborn, and industrious which I have been more or less described as countless times, usually as a compliment. Though sometimes people might say stubborn or diligent as an insult, I don’t take it as as one. It means I’m strong, it means I know what I want and I won’t give up until I get it. Emily may be a boring name but I’m determined to be anything but that. In 2001, in the U.S. 25,051 Emilys were born, but only one is me.

Emily Popularity Graph

Crafts

It was August, it was hot and sunny, it was summer, it had all the makings of a good day, but it wasn’t, not even close. My mom, my sister, and I were in a car driving to see my grandmother in the hospital, maybe for the last time. She had been on and off again sick for ten years, it was bad this time but it had been bad before so we were hopeful. My dad met us in the parking lot, he told us the words we weren’t expecting to hear, the words we never wanted to hear, and my sister and I broke and fell apart and clung to him like when we were little girls. We had missed her by less than two hours. We pulled ourselves together and went inside the hospital to our grandfather. It was the first time I’d ever seen a body without life, I burst into tears the moment I saw hers, but it wasn’t her, what she looked like wasn’t her, it wasn’t the part I cried over, it wasn’t the thing I was going to miss, it’s not what I remember about her.

I'd remember her vibrant personality. She was technically my step-grandmother but I never saw her that way and I never will, she will always be “grammy” to me. My grandfather and her had been married nearly 40 years, more than half of their lives, he’s quiet, she was loud, he’s simple, she was colorful. She had so many good qualities. She was strong, caring, kind, and very very protective of those lucky enough to be loved by her, but the first thing that comes to mind when I think of her is how creative she was. She was always making something from materials as simple as plastic cups to as expensive as silver. When I think of her, I think of the crafts she would make. Her and my grandpas house is still covered with her decorations, made out of everything, book pages, bottles, rocks, cups and her creations were amazing and beautiful, they didn’t look cheap or anything, you would have to look closely to even tell they were homemade.

She would knit pretty much anything she could, hats, sweaters, mittens, scarves, and more. We would paint rocks we found at the beach and she would always say how beautiful mine was even though hers were far better. She even had her own jewelry business that she started after she retired, sometimes she would let me make my own jewelry with her supplies. Anything artistic, I bet you she not only tried it but mastered it. Sewing, painting, crocheting, drawing. She made jewelry, bags, decorations, lights. She once took plastic clear cups and a string of Christmas lights and make it into this beautiful sphere of light and color. Though some people might think art is just a hobby, but to her it represented so much more, it was who she was, it showed her ability to take something ordinary and turn it into something beautiful. It showed her desire to bring beauty into the world, and she without a doubt brought loads and loads of beauty and color and brightness into mine.

My Home Away From Home

Wrong Person

It was in 7th grade, you know those awkward, uncomfortable “tween” years. My friend Julia's mom was supposed to drive us home after our basketball game but Julia wanted to stay for the boys game too so I decided to stay and sit with her. She said one of the boy's mom was going to drive her home, a mom I didn’t know. She pointed her out and told me to tell her I was her neighbor.

So I walked up and asked politely for a ride home and told her I was Julia's neighbor and she said yes. I didn’t think about the slight look of hesitation and confusion she had before she answered.

Me and Julia watched the game and at the end of the game a lady over and said that she thinks I was supposed to ask her for a ride home. My face turned bright red and I blurted out an awkward and embarrassed apology. She had been sitting behind the women I asked.

The mom was very nice and Julia told me to not worry about it but still when I think about it makes my inside squirm though I do laugh about it now.

Worst part about this was they.. Didn’t. Even. Win. So not worth it!Wrong Person

It was in 7th grade, you know those awkward, uncomfortable “tween” years. My friend Julia's mom was supposed to drive us home after our basketball game but Julia wanted to stay for the boys game too so I decided to stay and sit with her. She said one of the boy's mom was going to drive her home, a mom I didn’t know. She pointed her out and told me to tell her I was her neighbor.

So I walked up and asked politely for a ride home and told her I was Julia's neighbor and she said yes. I didn’t think about the slight look of hesitation and confusion she had before she answered.

Me and Julia watched the game and at the end of the game a lady over and said that she thinks I was supposed to ask her for a ride home. My face turned bright red and I blurted out an awkward and embarrassed apology. She had been sitting behind the women I asked.

The mom was very nice and Julia told me to not worry about it but still when I think about it makes my inside squirm though I do laugh about it now.

Worst part about this. They. Didn’t. Even. Win. So not worth it!

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Created with images by YLev - "Night city"

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