The day of my brothers LC funeral was a very sad day. I had just got ready and I remembered it like it was yesterday.I was in the sixth-grade, maybe around 2015 we had just buried my grandmother. It was a very rough time for the family in general. The funeral was at Mt. Zion MB Church right off Roosevelt Rd. The family and friends were instructed to wear all White and Gold accessories. I and my nieces wore matching white tutu's, white blazers, and gold flats. At the time of the funeral, my family needed to gather together to make things right knowing no matter what the problem was we are still a strong fighting family.When we entered the funeral, I felt sick to my stomach but, I knew I had to get over it. When we got to the funeral I saw my …show more content…
Following after that, we viewed the body once more before we buried and seen his wonderful face for the last time.On the way to the cemetery, the police arrested My cousin Baby T and tried to arrest my brother Tyrone for a stupid matter of "disruption to the community". Tyrone had to find another way to get to the funeral. I was scared I kept yelling "Help my brother god, please.". At the cemetery, I put this t-shirt with my big brother who was in jail at the time on the casket because Tony said that was it was his way of cherishing his big brother.I cried for the whole part of the burial but when my nieces and nephews released the doves I felt better knowing my brother was in a better place. After all the commotion at the cemetery, we went to the repast to get some of my aunties great food and play outside with my cousins. When we were playing outside we heard gunshots from a close distance and my brother yelled: "Everyone get inside of this repast right now.".When everyone got inside they then discovered that they sent my cousin to the store alone. My sister made me do a head count of all the kids in the bathroom to make sure we were all there.
... funeral home and prepared to walk her out to her grave. The morticians loaded my aunt into the hearse. Everyone was walking behind the hearse until we reached her plot. My uncles and Dad pulled her out of the vehicle onto the bands for the funeral directors to lower her into the ground. Then the priest for what felt like an hour of words and gave the signal to lower her into the ground. While they were doing that, the priest passed out roses. We all threw the roses onto the burial vault and said our goodbyes and went home. When we got home we reflected on the times we had.
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
It was valentines day, my mother bought me and my older brother T.J stuffed animals. She bought me a hige fluffy green frog with an attached heart and she bought him a flat brown dog with a bow,and big eyes. He never cared anything about his stuffed animal so he stole mine. He would intentionally come in my room and grab it just because he wanted me to chase him. he loved to be chased. It would put the biggest smile on his face, a smile I forever wish to see again. Its such a simple memory but it makes me realise that we should never take anything for granted because i always thought i would have my brother around and then a couple months later a tragedu occured resulting in the death of my older brotherr Terry Ray Hill Jr.
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
In all 18 years of my life, I had never lost anyone close to me, so I didn't know what grief was. I watched friends lose their grandparents and felt sorry for them, but I couldn't relate to their experience. On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I had been complaining to my roommate Michael in his bedroom about how much of a burden it felt for me to have to go pick up my grandma to take her to my house for Thanksgiving dinner. I remember wishing that one of my sisters would step up to do it because I didn't want my car to smell like her because she wasn't able to take care of her own personal hygiene and was wheelchair bound. But that night as I was out with my sister Avery, our mom texted us that none of us had to get her because my grandma
Our family was never close but we didn’t care. Nobody thought one day things might be different. All of that changed on September 20, 2014 when a hostile argument ended with the death of both my aunt and uncle. For years their marriage was falling apart. My aunt was very materialistic and wanted my cousins to have whatever they asked for but in reality my uncle knew it was impossible financially for them to achieve this. He would try to explain this to her but it usually led to arguments where she would then threaten to leave him so in the end she got her way which led to their vast debt. My uncle had a drinking problem but went to AA classes for her to commiserate their marriage and family. The night before this event he had drank a beer which led into a dispute which ended with my aunt taking the kids to her mom’s and they stayed their while my uncle just stayed home. Less than twelve hours later the mailman walked up to a house with my aunt dead on the front porch and my uncle inside on the living room floor dead. The screams caught the attention of the neighbors and the police was then called. This is a significant experience in my life that I faced and that had an impact on me during my freshman year and still affects me today. It was a homicide/suicide accident and it deeply impacted my family and me. Not only did it affect my school life but my home life as well.
There had been a funeral arranged for me even though there was no body yet to bury. Flowers, friends dressed in black, a church service, the whole works as they say, had been done up for me. My family mourned over the loss of their son, brother, nephew, and grandson. People said prayers, friends reminisced and toasted in my name, girls I had briefly dated carried on as if my death was a bigger deal to them than it actually was.
It was the funeral of my father. He died six months ago, and the worst part is, we weren’t even there for him. He was on a business trip when it happened. When some cold blooded person robbed him of all of his personal belongings, then killed him just for good measure.
Before actually attending the funeral my parents made sure everything I was wearing was black. I made a mistake of wearing a red bracelet and my parents scolded me. As I took off bracelet, I asked my parents why I couldn’t wear a red bracelet and they said it was because the color red was associated with happiness and celebrations. I understood immediately because we recently celebrated what I considered the happiest time of the year, Chinese New Year, which prominately uses red. So it would have been disrespectful to wear red during the funeral. Many Western cultures “dictate that funeral grieving attendees avoid color altogether and opt for the lowest value, black” (Hirschman). So even across different places black is considered a mourning color for many cultures.
Even though I clearly remember all the sanity me and my little family went through. I never wanted them to know their mother just up and disappear on them. I took a deep breath and was about ready to tell them the whole truth. They already knew too much. But right before I could speak, I became suddenly unspoken-less. They gave me this look, not a look of sadness, more like a look of pride and honor. They both huddle close to me and gave me a hug. The words that came from their mouths next. I 'll never forget
It was a Sunday morning. We got the call from the convalescent home. I went up with my mother and brother. As I walked in, I remember seeing him in the bed. He just looked so peaceful; it was the best thing that could have happened. Even so, death is terrible no matter what the condition of the person. No one is prepared to accept death no matter what, where or how it happens.
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.
February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to the hospital as quickly as possible as if it may be the last time to see her older brother. My mom finally calls me back and when I tell her the news, she quickly leaves work. That after-noon I lost my Uncle.
It took my family more than a week to plan the funeral , because they were still in shock that, he was actually dead ,and many of us didn’t have that much money at the time but luckily my dad helped out with most. Walking into the doors of the church was really hard for me, as I walked slowly I could see his blue casket facing towards me, with a bunch of flowers on top. Looking over at him lying there in a casket was unbelievable, I just couldn’t help it to let out my flow of tears, and touch his cold body letting him know that I will always love him, and that hopefully we will meet again. He wore a sky blue button up shirt with black pants and a cross chain, that had Jesus on it I placed over his neck. Omar looked very nice and like himself laying there. There were a lot of people that attended the funeral everyone said special prayers for him shared funny memories, and pictures they had with him, and viewed the body
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...