Personal Narrative essay

It was several weeks before my wedding. I stayed at home with my parents for a few weeks while my new house was under constructing. I moved most of my stuff to my parents' house. My boxes stacked in my room and the corner of the living room. One evening after dinner, my mon told me that she plans to remodel my room as a guest room. I was shocked, felt hurt and almost cried, "Do you want me to leave? I thought here would be my home forever!" I asked. "Of course here is always your home." she answered, "I just wonder that if we can rearrange our house since you will only stay here a few days a year. By the way, are you going to move your stuff to your new house? "She pointed the boxes on the corner and said "These boxes need to go."

        That night, I moved all my boxes to my room, and checked them one by one. There were a lot of my used college books and old clothes. I kept all my textbooks because I thought they might be good reference materials. However, I hadn't read any of them after I graduated. I picked the last book in the box, and opened a random page. "Fundamentals of Heat and Mass Transfer," page 211, it was an example about a metallic electrical wire coated with insulation layer. The question was that "determine the eccentricity in the thermal resistance of the insulation due to the bad coating process." At the moment as I read it, I felt like I forgot everything about heat transfer. Meanwhile, there was a piece of paper falling from the book. It was a sketch of a young man studding at desk which reminded me how much I hate this subject. It also reminded me that I drew Mr. X's portrait so many times when he did my homework for me. He always told me that I should do my homework myself. But still, he did them for me. I thought he had spoiled me. After everything was done, we used to hang out by the beach near our school. I remembered the delicious smell from the grilled squid stall on the beach, and the chill, sweet taste of the watermelon juice. But I found that I couldn't remember the feeling of his smile and his hold on my hand. 

Suddenly, I realized Mom was right. The past is the past. I watched the mementos lying in the box, some stuff animals, colorful necklaces, a pair of mugs and handmade cards. They were meaningful memories I shared with X, and it was time to say goodbye.  As well as to give away my used books. Since I worked in a field different than my major, it was a waste to keep my textbooks which I wouldn't use again.

 After decluttered my stuff, Mom and I rearranged my room. We changed the wall color, bought a new curtain.  We replaced my old desk with a small coffee table. Then we moved mom's sewing machine in. It was still my room, but a cozy sewing place too. I loved to draw my mom when she was doing her patchwork. We have to leave behind many things when we going on our journey. Nerveless, some things have never changed.