A Change of Heart
Stepping through the revolving glass doors of the hospital felt like entering a completely different world. With my arms crossed over my chest, I followed my parents though the never-ending, eggshell white hallways. My nostrils burned from the fumes of cleaners and sterility. Lovely paintings and luscious plants filled the walkways, trying to mask the hollow, empty feeling that most visitors felt. We passed two types of people along the way to our destination: the kind that strolled by while flashing everyone big, cheery smiles, and the people who kept their gaze straight ahead ignoring your mere existence; I preferred the latter. I did not belong in this place. This was a place for the sick, a place where people went to die. My grandfather did not belong here. We continued walking as my thoughts slipped away to a more pleasant time in my life.
I pictured our family tradition of traveling to my grandparents' home every Sunday afternoon. Their quaint little home, white washed with baby blue shutters welcomed any stranger and had a faint honeysuckle aroma that soothed the weariest of souls. We ate lunch together with my grandfather and grandmother sitting like kings and queens at opposite ends of the table. Then everyone gathered in the family room and spent the late afternoon playing games and catching up on the big events of the week. My grandfather spent his time playing with each grandchild one at a time so we would feel special. Anyone could tell that he loved his job as a grandparent. His eyes twinkled with delight and his smile never faded as he spent time with us. He loved throwing us up in the air with his powerful arms, until we squealed with delight as our stomachs flew above our heads. ...
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... take a step forward. The situation glimmered with a stream of hope. Reaching his hand out to me, I edged even closer and placed my hand atop his. At that moment, I knew that everything would turn out okay. My grandfather had changed physically but not mentally. I needed his smile to assure me of that. A calming feeling came over me as I walked through the revolving doors and out of the hospital into the bright sunshine. Removing the 200 pounds of iron that sat on my heart and leaving behind the massive building which housed the source of my troubles felt welcoming. I walked away from the situation knowing that my grandfather's personality or love for me did not change. However, my attitude shifted from looking at my grandfather as not being acceptable, to understanding that the only thing that had changed was his physical appearance; he was still the same.
The staff, physicians and board members were not ready to fail. They didn’t want to abandon all those who depended on their services, but they also knew closing the hospital's doors would hurt
The ‘interiors’ act as a microcosm of American society, as Dr Spivey says, the hospital is a “made-to-scale prototype of the big world. Through the Chief’s memories, we realise that the outside world is not much better, as we learn that Indian village...
Grandpa and Douglas work together to set up the porch swing on the front porch of Grandpa’s house. After a long day the whole family gathers together on the front porch as a family. I think that this is such a great thing that they all do together. I love how they all gather together at grandpa and grandma’s house. A lot of times our lives get very busy and we lose simple things, like all gathering together at the end of a day.
Ms. Phillips met us in the waiting area and walked us through the very spacious building to the elevator, taking us to her office on the third floor. She explained to us that the building was once a hospital (W. Phillips, personal communication, October 4th, 2013). This explained the wide doorways, spacious halls, drab atmosphere, and considerable amount of walking it takes to get from one place to the next. Ms. Phillips’ office had very welcoming in décor. Pictures of her child and what seemed to be his artwork, and the work of other children, decorated almost every available wall space. Because the room was once a hospital room, the layout was very strange for an office. Visitors have to sit perpendicular to Ms. Phillips’ desk. Because Ms. Phillips provides in home services, I do not believe this would aff...
...start to understand death and not to be afraid of it. Death is the most common fear among people and the author’s goal is to help others accept that death is not a tragedy on the contrary it is to be celebrated. The son’s transformation through this shows his fear of death for himself and his father to peace when the son utters, “I am not afraid for my father/…[and] his not afraid for my life, either,” communicating the idea of death being something that will happen no matter what. Death may be one of the most common fears, but fear will never hurt more than regret for one that does not live their lives to the fullest. “The Hospital Window” fulfills its purpose of helping others start to understand death in a superb way.
I looked around at everyone in the room and saw the sorrow in their eyes. My eyes first fell on my grandmother, usually the beacon of strength in our family. My grandmother looked as if she had been crying for a very long period of time. Her face looked more wrinkled than before underneath the wild, white hair atop her head. The face of this once youthful person now looked like a grape that had been dried in the sun to become a raisin. Her hair looked like it had not been brushed since the previous day as if created from high wispy clouds on a bright sunny day.
My grandparents had a great life together. They traveled extensively, particularly after they retired. They visited their children and grandchildren often, and were very involved in our lives and what mattered to us.
Texting while driving is a widespread epidemic in the United States that has unfavorable effects on our society.“Driving while texting is the standard wording used for traffic violations” (Bernstein). It causes many people to be distracted which can lead to accidents. “Eighty-nine percent of people own a cell phone” (Gardner). That is a plethora of people that are at risk of texting while driving. Also, texting has increased by ten times in three years(Bernstein). “The risk of a crash for those who are texting is twenty-three point two times greater than those who are not” (Gardner).Driving drunk only makes a person seven times more likely to be in a crash (Bernstein). This means texting while driving is three times more dangerous than driving intoxicated. One in five drivers admits to texting while driving(Gardner). This shows that that texting while driving is a widespread epidemic. When a survey asked teenagers whether they text and drive,“seventy five percent of teens admitted to texting while driving” (7).Distracted driving causes seventy-eight percent of car crashes(Bernstein). “No distraction causes as high of a risk of an accident as texting while driving” (Gardner). Also with these statistics, it is not hard to understand why accidents in teenagers that are driving have risen. The Bluetooth capability in cars gives a driver a hands-free way to talk on the phone, but is still not completely safe (8). Also, only 1 out of 3 US cars sold in 2009 had this feature. New systems are being developed that will use Bluetooth as well a global positioning technology to allow parents to monitor cell phone use and texting while driving (10).
Family : My Grandmother Mildred truly defined the word family as I have come to learn and live it. Holidays and family gatherings were the celebrations they were because they were surrounded by Grandma’s love. I watched family such as my late uncle Reginald become the amazing family man he was because of traditions instilled by his mother. I have also seen her daughter - my aunt Milinda – raise three beautiful children by the love and traditions passed down from Grandma. I, of course, owe most of who I am from Grandma’s love passed down through my own mother Rayetta and her husband George, whom Grandma so highly regarded.
I remember vividly the weekends at his house. Sitting on his lap, going to wrestling matches, walking down the street or through a park--these were things I did with Grandpa. I wasn't just a kid to him: I was his granddaughter, and I was special. He was special too.
Heat energy is transferred through three ways- conduction, convection and radiation. All three are able to transfer heat from one place to another based off of different principles however, are all three are connected by the physics of heat. Let’s start with heat- what exactly is heat? We can understand heat by knowing that “heat is a thermal energy that flows from the warmer areas to the cooler areas, and the thermal energy is the total of all kinetic energies within a given system.” (Soffar, 2015) Now, we can explore the means to which heat is transferred and how each of them occurs. Heat is transferred through conduction at the molecular level and in simple terms, the transfers occurs through physical contact. In conduction, “the substance
Koncikowski, Jeanette. "beauty pageants." Issues: Understanding Controversy and Society. ABC-CLIO, 2014. Web. 27 Apr. 2014.
Who brought me here? Out of impulse, my hand travels to my face, pressing the throbbing area on my right temple. I felt a scar and flinched at the pain. I tried to get up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I instantly fell back on to the bed. My body, engulfed in pain as if objecting my decision to stand up. I lay there pathetically, waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, illuminated with a white fluorescent light. Perhaps waiting for some help by the hospital staff. I still didn't know how I got here, who took me here, how long I've been here.
We all remember these grey gloomy days filled with a feeling of despair that saddens the heart from top to bottom. Even though, there may be joy in one’s heart, the atmosphere turns the soul cold and inert. Autumn is the nest of this particular type of days despite its hidden beauty. The sun seems foreign, and the nights are darker than usual enveloped by a thrill that generates chills to travel through the spine leaving you with a feeling of insecurity. Nevertheless, the thinnest of light will always shine through the deepest darkness; in fact, darkness amplifies the beauty and intensity of a sparkle. There I found myself trapped within the four walls of my house, all alone, surrounded by the viscosity of this type of day. I could hear some horrifying voices going through my mind led by unappealing suicidal thought. Boredom had me encaged, completely at its mercy. I needed to go far away, and escape from this morbid house which was wearing me down to the grave. Hope was purely what I was seeking in the middle of the city. Outside, the air was heavy. No beautifully rounded clouds, nor sunrays where available to be admired through the thick grey coat formed by the mist embedded in the streets. Though, I felt quite relieved to notice that I was not alone to feel that emptiness inside myself as I was trying to engage merchant who shown similar “symptoms” of my condition. The atmosphere definitely had a contagious effect spreading through the hearts of every pedestrian that day. Very quickly, what seemed to be comforting me at first, turned out to be deepening me in solitude. In the city park, walking ahead of me, I saw a little boy who had long hair attached with a black bandana.
The air is really fresh, and the wind is comfortable. Grandma usually opened the window during the daytime; I still remembered that feeling when the sunshine came in house and scatter. I walking among those numerous grand trees and admire colored leaves on the trees and on the ground. I miss that feeling of calmness and stability of the world around. I wish I could return the reality of those feelings once more. Memories in mind and never forget about happiness of staying in my grandmother’s house. Grandparent’s time-honored gift to their grandchildren is their unconditional love, unfettered by schedules, routines or commitments. They reinforced their grandchildren’s sense of security and self-value.