birds in a barrel's mission is to release creative nonfiction into the wild.

40 Days & 40 Writes is its first project.

My Whole World

I've made a pact with my Yiayia.

She's never going to die.
And I'm never going to get married.

She doesn't like it. I love it.

The one thing she always reminds me is that she is waiting to see me get married. Then she'll be complete with her job as a grandmother and she will be fully happy and she can die.

I told her, if that's the case, then I'm never getting married.

She rolled her eyes at that one.

When I was little, I used to clasp my hands in front of me and bat my eyes as I said (probably to my mother's horror):
I look like my Yiayia.
I talk like my Yiayia.
I act like my Yiayia.
I am my Yiayia.

And boy, is it the truth. And I wouldn't want it any other way. It's hard to put into words what she means to me other than to say she is my favorite person on the planet and even when she frustrates me by asking if I've found anyone yet or talking non-stop about all of my cousins who have already reproduced, I find a way to laugh it off. I love when she calls. She gives the best advice. In fact, I've started saving every voicemail she leaves. I sometimes purposefully don't answer the phone when she calls so she'll leave a voicemail. Then I'll call her right back. Because I know there will be a day when I won't be able to hear her voice or call her just because, even if I have no updates. That is the day I'm dreading. You know how some people are afraid of the day they'll die? I'm afraid of the day I'll not be able to ... man I can't even type it.

Pacts are forever, especially with your favorite person in the whole wide world. So for now, I'll spend every birthday recommending my Yiayia buy me the KitchenAid mixmaster and be proud of me for spending another year as a strong, independent woman like she wanted. And every year, she'll hope I finally have a fiancee and can get me that mixmaster for our bridal shower.

The mixmaster and the fiancee can wait. I have to go call my Yiayia.

A Flaw in the Narrative Thread

Love, Sis