It was a typical Sunday morning; I was in my bed sleep, completely oblivious to what was going on across the hall in my mother’s room. That’s when my little sister came in my room to tell me that my mom was crying. I didn’t believe her so I got up to see for myself. I’ve never heard my mother cry before so I thought she was laughing. I stood in the doorway for about five minutes when she looked at me with tears in her eyes and told me that my grandmother died in her sleep last night from a heart attack.
I was in complete shock, I didn’t know if I should be sad, mad, devastated, or anything like that. I couldn’t believe that was she gone just like that. The day before, when I last visited her, she looked completely healthy. She was smiling and happy so when I heard she had a heart attack I kept thinking how, how could she be gone so suddenly. Later on that Sunday, we went to her house to see how her brother was holding up. He asked me if I wanted to go in the house but I said, “No, I don’t want to go in there right now”.
When he asked me why, all I said was, “I’m just not ready. ” I couldn’t handle going in there because of all the memories that were in that were in her house and because of the fact that I was vulnerable, I was still in shock and afraid. For the next few days, all I could think about was her. When I went to class the next day, I didn’t say anything; I couldn’t even focus on my work, because I missed her so much. To me, my grandma was the rock that kept my family strong. She was what held us together at the seams.
The Essay on No Christmas Mom House Couldn
When Christmas Couldn't Come We lived in the farmhouse until my dad lost his job in 1994. No longer able to afford a mortgage, let alone utilities in the old, drafty house we moved into a smaller house two doors down. My mom called the new house "cozy" - making the best of a situation I couldn't begin to understand; words like "WIC", "welfare" and "debt" meant nothing to me at the time. I missed ...
My grandma could make anyone laugh no matter what, and she helped any and everyone she could. She taught me things that would eventually help me in the future. After she died, my family just fell apart because we didn’t know what to do. We were afraid that we would break apart at the seams. We didn’t know who to turn to for advice, we were lost. Her death hit me the hardest because she was my best friend; we had a special bond that no one could break. I knew that one day that she was going back to her home with the God; I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
There were still things I still wanted to do with her, places I wanted to go with her. Since I knew that she died, I knew that I would have to find some way to control my emotions, which is why I started writing poetry. Poetry helps me get my feelings out so that I could focus on my schoolwork and get my life on track. I know that she’s still watching over me, making sure that I grow into the mature young lady she knows I am. I’ve talked to her in my dreams many times, but it’s not the same as seeing her, and talking to her face to face.
She was very influential and inspiring to me, because no matter what was going on in her life, she always had a smile on her face. She was the only person who I could talk to about anything, now I don’t know who I can talk to because her advice made me who I am today. My only regret is that I didn’t attend her funeral simply because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them putting her in the ground. Her death made me realize that your life can end at any moment, so you should live your life to the fullest, because you’ll never know when your time on Earth is up.
