I had just came back from school and my mom looked kind of down. I asked her, “Whats wrong?”. She said, “I just got a call from your Grandmother and she said…”.
“What?”, I exclaimed. “Your Grandmother needs to get surgery because their is something that may cause cancer in her”, mom said. “So they aren’t coming here for winter break?”, I asked. “Yes instead we will have to go there and take care of your Grandpa”, she said. “We will be leaving three days before Winter Break starts”, she said. “Ok”, I said as I stayed worried sick about my Grandma until I get there. My Grandma and I had many memories that we share. She was the person who took care of us when I was still little because my Dad was in Iraq. She taught me many valuable skills that made me who I am today. “3, 2, 1 and we are in mainland Japan!” We had just arrived in mainland and it was freezing compared to Okinawa. After that we took a bus then our Grandpa picked us up and took us to their house. My Grandpa was so happy to see us and we were too. Once we got to their house we met our Grandma. She looked great, but in the inside she was hurting. That night
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Since I was too young, I could not enter the place in the hospital where the surgery took place. All I had to do was hope for the best for my Grandma. Before she went to get surgery she told me, “Don’t worry I’ll do great”. “I know you will”, I said as she went to get her surgery. After a few hours of waiting I was getting a little bit worried. Then the doctor came to tell us the results. He told us… “No cancer was found and had taken out what was bothering your Grandma”. “Thank you”, I said in relief. “Your Grandma will need to stay in the hospital until she recovers”, said the doctor. Although I was worried about my Grandma my Grandpa was probably more worried than me. When he heard what the doctor said he was more relieved than me. In the end we were all happy that our Grandma was
One of my earliest memories of Grandpa begins with us driving to the Monmouth Park Racetrack. We sure did love to go to the track and root for Julie Krone or one of our other favorite jockeys. He loved challenges, and he especially loved the challenge of picking the ponies. He would read the race programs in the Asbury Park Press and usually pre-pick most of the day's favorite horses before ever leaving the house. Still, on arrival, we always bought the program and maybe a race sheet or two before entering the track grandstand. After picking up a couple of seats right around the finish line or maybe a little past it, back to figuring he'd go. As he went, grandpa would always point out the horses that had won recently or looked like they were due. "I have a feeling about this one" he'd say.
I’m glad we have Maurice, my mother’s younger brother here today. Ella, her older sister, unfortunately couldn’t make it, but I know the news of my mothers death hit her hard. And I know that she prayed with all her will, for my mother.
It is hard to give a eulogy for one’s parent. More than the death of a classmate or sibling, the death of a parent is not only a loss, but also a reminder that we are all following an inevitable path. We are all “Outrunning Our Shadow” as her friend Fred Hill so provocatively titled his book.
There is an old Yiddish proverb, when the heart is full, the eyes overflow. And so it is the case when we try to sum up and honor my mother’s life.
My mom loved to cook for people, and she had wanted to do it one last time. She sat in her wheelchair chopping potatoes and peeling eggs with my niece, making her infamous potato salad. After eating, my grandma rounded up all four of us girls, my nieces, and my mom to take a few pictures together.
Where do I start? How do I begin a farewell when I still can't believe you're gone? How do I say goodbye to a part of my soul?
I didn't get "holidayitis" as my brothers well know this term. I wasn't stressed out and I kept saying, "there are 12 days of Christmas."
I would like to thank you all for coming to Arlyn's funeral. I am truly touched that you care enough to show your support for us and your respect for Arlyn this way.
My mother was a complex, multi-faceted person. Many of you here today knew my mother personally, and many of you knew my mother indirectly through one of her family members. You may have known her as a coworker, a friend, or a support person. Of course, all of my mother’s family here today each knew a part of her, a “facet” of her--as a mother, a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a cousin.
After she went to the doctors’ she brought us news that her cancer has grown slightly and the surgery will be had when she reaches twenty-two weeks in her pregnancy. The following day I was in choir class, I held back tears all day, but when I walked into Mrs. Chapman’s room I couldn’t hold back anymore. I started crying, so Mrs. Chapman called me into her office and gave me a very comforting hug. We started discussing how she understood what I was going through and how her mother had breast cancer. She explained to me how she was one of the main people who helped her mother while she was sick.
When I was little, if you couldn't find me, I could be anywhere— up a tree, under the covers, in the closet, even hiding in the bathroom where I couldn't be disturbed... but almost always with a book. Friends even through college would ask how it was that I gobbled up words like peanut butter. Usually, I would just shrug and say, “I have no idea where it came from!” Thinking back, though, it's so obvious— how could I miss it?
I believe that every person in, in their own unique way, creates a legacy in their lifetime by which others can live long after that person has left us. For those of us who remain, Mildred Johnson has truly created a legacy to uphold and fulfill in our daily lives. I firmly believe that this carrying out is a true honor and responsibility by means of the various facets that Mildred has made her own.
My grandfather and I had a number of secrets between us. Most of these, I can't tell; the salient feature of a secret is not the matter contained within the secret, but the trust implied.
My brother, my sister and I had adopted a cat. We told our mom that we would take care of it, and feed it. Of course you know what happened. Our mom ended up taking care of it and feeding it. We told our mom the cat's name was Tiger. T i g e r. Now, if you’re Molly and you are originally from Trenton New Jersey, T i g e r is pronounced Tagger.
It was June 6, 2011. I remember taking my mother to the County Hospital’s emergency room. She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm. I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave. I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home. I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you. You’ll see everything is okay, and we’ll go home later on.” I wish then and now that would have been the case. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to many parts of her body including her lungs and kidneys. The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do. I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.