Essay on What Are Words

What are words? Do words really always convey what we are trying to say? Can they communicate your feelings as effectively as you would like them to? What makes some words hurt and others feel good? I have never been able to understand it. The impact of words is a complicated and complex part of human nature. They are the building blocks of a conversation, a relationship and they convey your feelings and your thoughts, except, when they simply can’t. My story starts with words. Happy words. 2-year-old-made-up-words. “FORCIES MOMMY!” I could feel the rumble of heavy footsteps pulsing through my veins. It was time. The time of low tide. The time of the horses running up and down the bank. The smell of marsh grass and mud racing to my nose. I ran out the open front door, tasting the smell of freedom. I latched my tiny fingers around the rails of the front porch and I stared. I watched the heavy beasts carry themselves with such poise and character. I heard the symphony of crashing waves throwing themselves onto the shore between each giant step a massive creature took. I could feel a sense of community and family as each mother stayed by her foal’s side.
I heard the phone ring. I ran upstairs answer, to hear from my mom who I hadn’t talked to in a few days. I picked up the phone with a bubbly “Hi Mommy!” jumping from my mouth. But I heard no words, all I heard was sobs. All I could feel was a lack of comfort and a feeling of the unknown. She finally spoke, very slowly. I made out the words “Granny…died.” Pause. Utter silence prevailed aside from the pounding of my heart and sobs of the strongest person I knew. I heard the sounds of laughter dancing up the stairs like little girls dancing in the sun, totally oblivious to anything but their own happiness. How could anyone be happy right now? How could they be laughing right now? The world just came to a halt. I could hear my brain yelling, “Speak! Say something!” but my heart could not find the words. I ran down the stairs, throwing the phone to my dad and collapsing in my stepmoms arms, finally feeling that comfort I had been lacking. They asked what was wrong, but words simply could not explain. Words just weren’t enough. I saw my dad speak, but the only thing I heard was silence. The only thing I felt was the walls caving in around me.
Those were the words that would change my life forever. The words will never escape my mind. The last words my mom spoke to her mother, “Shut up, you’re not dying.” And granny’s sleepy, soft, sweet, and sickly words, “Don’t be sad.” But the most important thing she ever said to me was, “I love you, sunshine.” Those 4 words. That sweet voice. Those loving eyes. That mischievous smile. Just those words.

Words have always reminded me of my granny. She always seemed to have a way to shape her words to make you feel happy, safe, or comfortable. She loved words, to read them, to write them, or just to enjoy them. There were certain things that she would say, that I will never forget. She always said “Courage is not

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