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Negative effects of social media on adults
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Negative effects of social media on adults
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It was a cold winter’s day and the snow was falling from the thunderous sky above. The clouds were black and the air crisp. As I looked out the frosty window, which was cold to the touch, the first thing that came to my head was my grandma. My grandma is an elderly woman suffering from dementia at the age eighty-three. She is living in a sixties style bungalow which was far too big for her as she only uses about two of the rooms; one for sleeping in and one for eating and watching television. I thought I’d walk to my grandma’s house, as she would be lonely and scared. As I stepped out my front door, locking it behind me I thought, “I must be careful where I stand as the ice is thick and deep.” I walked cautiously out of the street making sure I was steady on my feet and wasn’t going to fall. I was wrapped head to toe with clothing-my eyes were the only part of me showing. I felt like the abominable snowman, as I was the only soul on the streets. It was ludicrous how in the whole of Paisley there wasn’t one person or animal or ever noise on this day. Not one! I saw no children, heard no birds and smelt no fumes; it was almost as if I was the only person left. I was now within a couple of miles of my grandma’s house, my feet wet, my throat dry and my body cold. The wind crawled up my spine as I began to shiver. Suddenly the weather took a dramatic change for the worst. The thunder roared like the dominant lion, the lighting flashed and hailstones the size the size of golf balls began to pound my already weakened body. At this point I felt unable to carry on in my journey in the snow. As I turned the corner I was once again filled with joy as the sight of my grandma’s house brought back memories of hot chocolate and marshma... ... middle of paper ... ...ase, yet I said nothing, even when the dog’s life was at risk. I was forced into submission when the vet found sharp objects that looked like pieces of glass in his stomach; I had to tell the truth now. I took a deep breath and told my gran, she looked so upset and was extremely disappointed in me. Although Butch recovered well and Gran never mentioned another thing about this incident, it is me that has to live with my actions and the outcome that could have been fatal. It took a few months before I released the full extent of my stupid actions and the possible consequences. Being responsible for causing emotional and physical pain to another was such a heavy burden; I however did learn a very serious lesson from this. I learned it is easier to tell the truth no mater how difficult it seems because the result of not being honest could be disastrous.
I rushed out of the bedroom confused. I began to realize what was going on. I ran to where I last saw her and she was not there. Never before I felt my heart sank. My eyes filled with tears. I dropped to my knees and felt the cold white tile she last swept and mopped for my family. I look up and around seeing picture frames of of her kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren smiling. I turn my head to the right and see the that little statue of the Virgin Mary, the last gift we gave her. I began to cry and walked to my mother hugging her. My father walked dreadfully inside the house. He had rushed my great grandmother to the hospital but time has not on his side. She had a bad heart and was not taking her medication. Later that morning, many people I have never seen before came by to pray. I wandered why this had to happen to her. So much grief and sadness came upon
Whenever I walk into my grandma’s house, the first sight that immediately grabs my attention, is her large old wooden closet, so clean and well-organized. Even now closing my eyes, I can remember my grandma’s colorful dresses and skirts, precisely ironed and draping each to another and the best smelling linens with lavender as the scent. On the wall across the closet there are crookedly hanging family photos, dozens of images, showing us where we have been and where we are getting going; my grandfather in his marine uniform during World War II; my grandma as a young girl at the
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
At the moment of my sugery I did not yet realize who I was, or what I was going to do with my life. I was honestly very mad and upset at the world. Realizing who I was followed the weeks after the accident, but not in a
Getting ready to walk into Anna’s hospice room, my anxiety level was escalating. Saying a quick prayer, I asked God to help me find the right words to comfort Anna and her family. Upon knocking on her door, a young lady in her middle 20’s answered the door. Opening the door for me, she informed me Anna was her grandmother and she would like me just to sit with her and that she would return after work. And she left. No get to know you introduction here, very formal, matter of fact, serious kind of girl. No one was going to invade her space. Oh well, I thought, I’m here to help Anna, hopefully Julie will open up later.
A few months later my dad received a call saying that my Grandma was in the hospital. She had been forgetting to take her medicine and she had attacked my Grandpa. She did not hurt him though. I never thought that, it would ever happen. We went to visit her a couple weeks later. She was so embarrassed that she was in the hospital for that. Finally, after about a month, she came home happier than ever.
I poured my first cup of coffee for the day and anxiously searched for a weather report that could predict with some degree of accuracy as to just how severe this storm was going to be. I had to determine whether I would go to work or stay home. My heart sank as I pulled back the living room curtains and saw that the snow had already started to fall. I decided that it would be in my best interest to call into work and prepare for the several hours of back-breaking shoveling that faced me during the day. As I watched the snow pile up I decide it was time to get dressed and get outside to find the shovel and get ahead of what was to be a significant snowfall. I hated to leave the warmth of the house, but if I stayed ahead of it I might not ache as bad tomorrow. As I walked out the door, the smell was clean and crisp. The snow fell silently and was cold against my face. Each snowflake felt different, some seemed colder than others and some seemed heavier than others. Every so often the wind would blow causing the snow to swirl in multiple directions at one time. As it lay heavily on the...
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
When I reach the foot of the stairs, Grandma hands me a Folders Mocha Fresco and we move into the front room where we can help any customers that happen by. I sit in a chair near the desk and Grandma sits behind it. We drink our coffee and talk about the antique business and life, while the glass in the room cuts a multicolored sunset into the room as the sun goes down. We then wash our mugs, and while Grandma locks up I go out the door, to the tune of the tinkling sleigh bells.
When my dad was eighteen years old he went into the military, and was stationed overseas in Europe. One night, after having a few drinks with his friends and his commanding officer, he had to drive his commanding officer back to the base because he was not in a fit state to drive. It was late at night, very dark, and my dad didn’t really know where he was going. This resulted in my dad driving, and his commanding officer giving him directions. My dad was not 100% confident in his directions, but it was his commanding officer and you do what they say to do, when they say to do it. The man gave him a wrong direction, and it ended with them both toppling over a cliff and flipping the vehicle multiple times. Initially my Dad only
In the evening, I went to the churchyard. It blew bleak as winter—all round was solitary.
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.
I always seemed to not learn from the first mistake when it came to driving, after my first car accident you would think I’d learn to obey driving laws. I had just got off work at 5pm and my co worker was outside smoking a cigarette and yelled out “go ahead and show me that you can really burnout”, as I got in my car, and of course I wouldn’t say no. I put my car in gear and took off and burned rubber in the empty parking lot, as I’m sliding out the parking lot I hear a loud pop, it’s my front passenger tire that popped and the next thing I knew I had no control of the car and ahead of me is a curb that leads into a shopping center but is about 10 feet down. At this point my car is in the air and the car lands nose first flipping the car upside down. I crawl out the car and realize I just totaled my mother’s car.
Finally, we arrived at our destination. I left the car leaving my parents and little brother behind and ran up the steps to my grandma’s house. I just had to be the first one to knock on her door, so I did. She opened the door for me, and I went inside parting with the bitter cold and darkness surrounding me. Inside the house I was immediately encircled with the aromas of her Christmas cooking and baking. A real fresh Christmas tree which was already beautifully adorned with old family ornaments perforated the air with more holiday aromas. I went into the kitchen with my mom, and together we helped my grandma finish preparing the Christmas Eve dinner.
As I approach the final turns to my grandparents house, my heart expands and fills with a peaceful warm-hearted magical sense of love. I grasp the handle to the window and lower the glass just enough that I feel the cool autumn breeze gently ruffle through my hair. I can hear the sound of the soft running water flowing down the stream banks of the rolling hills. Tree branches hang low over the shallow waters. The soft breeze sheds leaves of the oak tree falling softly to the surface of the stream, circular ripples flow downstream over the moss covered rocks that lead the way to the old willow tree were childhood traditions of skip rock were carried down from one generation to the next. In the distance, the sunrise glistens off the snow capped peaks that shadowed the country side where my uncle herds his cattle from the freshly grazed field. The smell of the grass, distinctive, and easily recognizable triggers fond memories of my grandparent 's house, which I call home.