“Mom, are we going to go visit grandmother at the hospital today?” I asked. “Why of course, why do you ask such thing? You know your grandmother is very sick and who knows what might happen next, and all she has is us, her family.” For five lugubrious, lengthy days, my family and I had been visiting my eighty-three year old grandmother at the St. Mary Hospital, who was so inestimable to me. At the age of nine, I never knew much of life or death, but all I apprehended was that someone I loved was not well and had to stay in the hospital, until she gets well.
This was a very normal routine for me because for four years, my grandmother has been in and out of hospitals. I never knew the genuine reasons why, but every time my mom tries to explain it to me, I never fully implicit.
Until this day, I am still irate at myself for not understanding what transpired those years! I still revived that one particular night: “Tuyet, wake up?” whispered my aunt, in an authentic soft voice.
The thing I execrated most was when someone tries stirring me up from a luscious sleep. Usually, I would tell the person to go away, but this time?I did not. “Tuyet, wake up. Something dreadful has just happened. Come on, wake up.” “Tuyet, I don’t want to say this, but your grandmother just passed away?” said my aunt seriously. “What?” I said in a shock, not sure what she meant. “Your mom just called from the hospital about a minute ago, saying that your grandmother have just passed away to a better place.” “If you don’t believe me, come and see for yourself. Your mom wanted me to drive you and your brothers to the hospital to see your grandmother for the last time.” Somehow, something didn’t seem right. Why so suddenly? I just didn’t understand. Maybe, it was just one of those weird dreams I was having again or maybe it was just a joke. I won’t know for sure until I go see for myself. Calmly, I got up, washed my face, and assessed my clothes and shoes. By the time we got to the hospital, it was about midnight. I still felt like it was a dream, but I went on, not knowing how to react.
The Essay on Grandmother House Time Years
My grandmother's house has a very special place in my heart. I lived with my grandmother for many years when I was little. Her house always seemed to have something about it that set it apart from all the rest. As you walk into the front door of her house you notice a long, slender stairway that led up into the main hallway of the house. The strong smell of cigarette smoke is quite evident when ...
It was so quiet in the hospital as if no one existed. I was looking forward to see a nurse or someone that works in the hospital, but none at all. While walking in the interminable maze, I could hear the squeaks from my shoes and the beating of my heart, going faster and faster. I started to get goosebumps and felt the chills run through my arms. Finally, we arrived to the room. There, the numbest feeling I ever had was witnessing my mom sob. With her hands on her face, I could hear her say, “Why did you have to leave me so early? Why?” I just stood there, just staring at my mom. I slowly moved my eyes farther to the right, to the bed. There, a body lay still as a stone. It was my grandmother. I leaned over to distinguish her face.
“Is she really my grandmother?” I asked myself.
She looks dissimilar from what I can remembered of her. She had this mournful look that seem to show that she was upset about something. She seems to be in a deep, sour sleep. But then, I knew it was not just a normal sleep, but a sleep that a person may never wake up from. My dad was on the edge of the bed, holding on to one of my grandmother’s hand, looking down. I knew he wanted to cry, but trying to be a real man, he held in his tears. I went to stand next to my mom, but not too close, for I never perceived her that way and was frightened. Wondering what others were feeling, I looked at my two older brothers, who were eleven and thirteen years old. They stood next to the door, with a frighten expressions. As my aunt, she slowly moved closer to the body, staring at it as if she never saw such thing. I can see in my aunt’s eyes, they were starting to get blurry. “Can my grandmother hear us? Does she know that sadness has filled the room? Does she even know what was going on?” I craved answers. The whole time, I was stiff as a statue. I didn’t know what to envision or sentiment. It was as if someone was controlling me and was doing a good job of it.
The Essay on Touched: Sleep and Childlike Things
As I sat in my living room patiently, I attempted to gather up the nerve to tell my story to my parents who were clueless to what happened to me the night before. My hands shook and became wet to the touch with sweat. The room felt ice cold but my face felt like fire and my body became numb. My throat started throbbing, I couldn’t keep the normal pace of my inhales and exhales, and making eye ...
Without saying a word, we departed. My mom and dad were still at the hospital, while us children had to come back home and rest for school the next morning.
As I lied in bed, sadness took over, as the vision of the peaceful body on the bed appeared in my head. I never thought that there would be a day like this, with myself knowing that someone I care so much for, left this world without me having a clue that this would happen. I cried myself to sleep, finally convinced that she was never going to come back. Even thought it was not her choice to leave, I was mad at the fact that she did not keep her promise. Just a year before she passed away, I remembered her voice so clearly and it kept replaying in my head, over and over as if it was just yesterday, “I promise you that I will be with you when you turn eighteen.” Why didn’t I see it coming soon? Especially, when my grandmother’s last few words to me was that she wanted me in the success path when I grow up, even if she was not there to see it. I thought it was just one of those times when she was trying to encourage me and so, I thought nothing more of it. Nowadays, when I see my friends with their grandmothers, I get jealous and heavyhearted because I don’t have one of my own to treasure and cherish. It hurts just to even think that when I need her to comfort me, she won’t be there.
What I would do just to have her here by my side. The thing that irritates me most is that I dislike people who have grandmothers and take it for granted. For example, I used to have a friend who had two grandmothers that I would really love to have. They are two of the best grandmothers you can ever asked for. Somehow, not knowing the feelings of not having one, she took it for granted and did not appreciated them. People tend to value things that are no longer there. In this case, I had lost someone valuable in my life that I never completely understood what went on in her life. I really wish that I could have changed things before she was gone permanently. But now, I can’t tell her how much she had meant to me. Since I have experienced some loss already, I tend to appreciate every single breath I take with the people I love.
The Essay on Meditation Meditate Things People
Meditation is a private devotion or mental exercise consisting of a number of techniques of concentration, contemplation, and abstraction to heighten spiritual awareness. It has also been defined as, "Consciously directing your attention to alter your state of consciousness." Meditation has been practiced around the world since the ancient times. It was used back then and still used today for ...
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Tuyet
