Natalia Kolganova
Professor Green – Anderson
English 101.0785
September 18, 2007
A Feeling of Being Home
You can be robbed on the street; somebody can break into your car; a bank can repossess
your car; you can loose people whom you truly love. But nobody can take away the memories.
Whether we want it or not, they are nailed to the back of our minds and hearts. Looking, for
example, at a photograph that was taken years ago, we can easily recall the events of that time,
places, and people that are associated with this photograph. Some of the photos are so valuable
that we treat them like a treasure because they might be the only reminder of people who are or
were important to us and places that are significant to us. I have one of these precious
photographs, the photograph that brings tears to my eyes every time I look at it.
In this photograph you can see three people sitting on the sofa. The man on the left side is
about 70 years old; he has a dark-brown hair and very strikingly thick eyebrows. The man is
dressed in a warm brown sweater and black sport pants. He looks very calm and relaxed; his
hands are crossed on his laps, and he is slightly smiling. Next to him, there is a young woman
who is about 18 years old. She is dressed in black long-sleeved sweater and pants. Her short hair
is dark as well. The girl looks very powerful and self-confident as her legs are crossed. On the
right side of the photograph there is a woman wearing a bright pink sweater and black pants. She
has very short dark hair with a few highlights. The pinky purple color of her lipstick resonates
with the sweater. The woman leans a little on the girl, and she holds her hand. It seems like the
camera captured the woman at the wrong moment because her look is not focused on the center.
As a whole, the photograph looks a little dull; there is no variety of colors: the sofa is dark
brown, and everyone is mostly dressed in black. Only beige wallpaper with pale red flowers on it
adds some life to this photograph.
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Someone might say that there is nothing special in this photograph. This might be true for
everybody else, but not for me because there is an entire life behind it, my life. The young lady
in the middle of the photograph, as you can guess, is me, and people surrounding me are my
parents. The room, in which this photograph was taken, is the living room in my parents’
apartment in my hometown, Lipetsk, which is 400 kilometers from the capital of Russia –
Moscow. But before we get to the point of when and why this photograph was taken, let me tell
you a short story.
As a child, I was raised in a very strict atmosphere. My parents, especially my father,
tried to make sure that almost all my free time was dedicated to studying. Of course, I was
spending some time with my friends, but there was always a long list of restrictions. When it was
time for me to decide which college to go to, my mother said that she would have a heart attack
if I chose a college in another city. Therefore, when I told her that one of the greatest universities
in Moscow had just launched a new program of Information Technology in Business and that it
was exactly what I wanted to get my degree in, her answer was very short: “I will never let that
happen. I can not let you stay by yourself in such a crazy city as Moscow!” Obviously, my
mother wanted her little baby to be next to her all the time, but she also knew very well that it
was a great opportunity for her daughter to get an excellent education. So, she did not protest
when I started attending classes that helped students with preparation for college exams. More
than that, she accompanied me to Moscow and was with me throughout my journey towards the
first day in college, a very tough journey I must say. My father did not get into that process not
because he did not want to, but because during my last year of high school he had several serious
brain surgeries that had a tremendously negative impact on this physical and mental health.
Nevertheless, I knew that he was very excited about the fact that his daughter was accepted to a
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good university and worried at the same time because that meant that I was leaving the family
and was starting life on my own.
After two months of my first semester in college, I went back to my hometown to visit
my parents. It is almost impossible to describe how happy we all were to see each other again.
Then, when after one week I had to go back to Moscow, sadness took over our happiness. It was
time to say “Good bye” one more time. This was the moment captured in the photo.
Looking at this photograph taken four years ago and recalling the memories of that time,
I see a clear picture of the moment when I stepped into the house after my first two months of
being in Moscow. I still remember that strange feeling that I had when I opened the door of the
apartment. I suddenly realized how important that place was to me. It was the place where I did
not live any more; however, it was still my home. I loved every single piece of it: my room
where I spent hours writing my personal journal and complaining about me father’s strictness;
the living room with its sofa on which my mother and I were lying while she was reading me
poems that she had written years ago; the kitchen where we used to sit around the table playing
cards with candles all over the place because the power went off. Every room was filled with
memories, priceless memories of my childhood and my parents.
It has been more than two years since I came to this country and, unfortunately, I have
not had a chance to go back yet. However, I often dream about that special day when I will be
able to make a trip to Russia. I see a clear picture of that day: nobody knows about my arrival
because I want it to be a pleasant surprise. So, here I am, standing in front of my parents’ house.
My heart is beating so fast that I am afraid it is going to jump out of my chest. I hold my breath
for a second and ring the bell. The door opens, and I see my mother. “Daughter, is that you?” she
says. “Yes, mama, it is me. I am home again!”
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