Memoir
Love is a strong emotion that bonds one person to another. Without love this world would be bland and lonely. Love is strange it may like you one day and hit you in the face on the next. My love for my grandmas’ mom is very exotic and strange. Since she has already had one heart attack she must live in a nursing home. My love for her is so strong, we make each other gifts. She is very old for how beautiful she was.
One of the times that I saw my Great Grandma was five years old. We weren’t allowed to call her great grandma, it was only Nursing Home Grandma. She said we made her feel old when we called her Great Grandma. When I saw her she was laying in her bed with a big old smile on her face.
She whispered “Come here sweetie and give me a hug!”
I went over there and gave her a hug and a kiss. While doing so I saw my angel I gave her and smiled. I knew she was going to hang it up on her bulletin board behind her. That wall is where she puts all of her important stuff and she loves angels they are her favorite thing in the world so I figured it could look over her and protect her from harm and danger. When my little brother, Anthony, came in the room waddled up in a blanket and in my mother’s arms he looked up and took one glance at my Nursing Home Grandma and just screamed and cried the whole time we were there. I could
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I went to sleep by myself out of that whole house everyone was up all night in the living room of her house. When I woke up I put my depressing black dress on and we left for her burial memorial.it was my first time at a funeral. Then it hit me if she is gone then I can’t see her ever again, well until I pass away. That is when I started to cry I realized that the last time my brother got to see her was when he was crying all I knew off at that moment was sadness. I couldn’t breathe either from me sobbing so much. It is now much different without
Grandma lacked affection when she was a child, and so her way of showing her affection might be illogical to some, but makes perfect sense to her. Grandma lived through the Great Depression, so she had to go through witnessing her dad losing his job and becoming a fireman, a job that requires you to shovel in coal into the furnace. There was an accident at the job and Grandma’s dad got injured in the face horribly. Grandma’s dad ran away but Grandma found him by chance and when he was questioned why he never came home he responded with, “I was afraid you wouldn’t
... 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.
Love is a powerful emotion that affects everyone at some time in their lives. According to Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary, love is defined as a feeling of strong and constant affection for someone(1). Love can refer to the feelings between a couple in a romantic relationship, or it can refer to the affection one would have with a friend. When love is shown, each person cares about the other. Sometimes, love can be hypnotizing, causing one to do something they would not do normally. In “Gift of Magi” by O Henry and “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe, it shows that love can make one do crazy things.
Despite being one of the most powerful emotions, the definition of love cannot be encompassed in one, singular statement. However, it can be said that love is a fundamental life force experienced by all beings, humans and animals alike. The complexity of love can be explained by the fact that there are many different types of love that exist. Romantic love is characterized by feelings of desire and affection between two people. Parental love highlights the protective, caring relationship shared by parent and child. Platonic love is the supportive, closely-knit connection that occurs among friends. While love in all forms is beautiful, the nature of love can sometimes become obsessive, and fog all other thoughts that an individual has. This obsessiveness, in turn, can have disastrous effects on the individual and those around him or her. In literature, the obsessive love often serves as the central focus of books, short stories, plays, and poems. The Great
Gran, as I frequently called her, stood at five feet seven inches tall. She was an elderly woman in her mid-50s that enjoyed living life and helping others in any way possible, whether it is at the market selling produce, donating to a charity for the less fortunate, or participating in walk-a-thons. On the verge of going into her sixties, her behavior protruded was one of a woman in her early thirties. Dressed in a tight, knee-high khaki pants, a black V-cut top, and a black sandals, with her hand held on her hip saying, “I might be old in age, but I am young and strong at heart darling” as she responded to my comment, in my dialect, “Yuh feel you too young.” This brought much humor to the room. The joyou...
My grandma always manages to keep a sense of humor, even when there’s not much humor in the situation. I am not afraid to admit that every time that I part ways with my grandparents at the end of a visit, I cry. Even when I am doing that, my grandma helps me feel better by saying something along the lines of “we’ll see you again soon” or mentioning something silly that happened during that visit. She always manages to make me feel better with her compassion. My grandma is always compassionate towards other. She cares about everyone she knows and will visit a friend who is in pain, even when it is out of her way. She is always giving up her time to help others. My grandma is resilient, even when she is in pain. She and my grandpa flew out here for the tulip festival my kindergarten year. Even when she fell in the airport and broke her hip, she came and was pushed around in a wheelchair that visit. And even now, when she has a slipped disc in her back and is in pain a lot, she never gives up. She may take longer to get places, but she still does things with her friends and family. My grandma is an amazing woman and I hope to be like her as I grow and
It seemed like a normal day when I entered Mrs. A’s AP Language and Composition class, but little did I know that she was going to assign a very important project that was going to take forever. I took my seat and wrote down what was on the board. Then I sat patiently and waited for Mrs. A to come explain what we were doing today. When the tardy bell rang, Mrs. A glided into the room and gave us all a stack of papers. She then proceeded to discuss our upcoming assignment, a memoir. As she explained the very important assignment, I wondered whom I would write about. No one really came to mind to write about and I thought for sure I would never be able to get this thing done on time. I finally decided that I would write in on my mother, Kari Jenson. I knew I would probably put the project off until the very end and do it the weekend before even though it would get on my mom’s nerves. Putting work off was just how I did everything, it worked for me. When I arrived home from school that day, I told mom about the project. I told her I would most likely write it about her and she was overjoyed.
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...
What is love? That is a question people have been asking for centuries and everyone has a different answer. Love is a beginning, love is an end, it destroys, or possible conquers all are just a few answers. The range can also be from a hopeless romantic to a person who does not even believe that love exists. There are many factors that can influence an authors’ work, such as the time period and their overall view of the world.
This lady is the most wonderful person I 've ever met. She is old, affectionate, and intelligent. It took me eighteen years to realize how much this extraordinary person influenced my life. She 's the type of person who charms everyone with her stories and experiences. She always time for her family and friends. She is the kind of leader who does everything to keep her family together and in harmony. She is my grandmother.
I knew that my grandmother’s visit was always short and sweet, for she always had to return to America while I went back to my distressing life at home with my uncle. She would always come down to Fiji for about two weeks, twice a year, but on this particular holiday, life was going to change. My grandmother walks into the hotel room, after visiting the embassy in town, and gives me the biggest hug and kiss while I am sitting on the bed. She says, “Grandma is taking you to America next week. Do you want to come?” She hands me a passport with my picture in it; I immediately flip the passport book open and stare at my picture with a muddled look. I ask her “Is this real? Am I going to America?” She says yes and then we both, immediately, start jumping on the bed
She would then take two big brown eggs and crack them on a bowl. She would Wisk those eggs in a red bowl that she kept under the kitchen sink while I danced to nose the fork would make as it banged against the bowl. She would mix the eggs until the yolk and the whites became one. My grandma then would take the red bowl and gently poured the eggs into the hot oily pan. She would stand by the stove and while she folded the eggs I stood there and watched her with eyes filled with love.
...s still down for anything. I love dancing with him in the living room. His smile and laugh makes it one of my favorite things to do. I love holding his hand walking through a restaurant as he makes fun of the lady’s hair in front of us. His bad habit of making fun of others has, indeed, rubbed off on me. Even when he is not feeling well and in an extended hospital stay, I like to sit with him and watch him flirt with the nurses and make them laugh. His positive attitude often makes bad situations more tolerable. Grandpa is willing to talk to anyone but more importantly, he will listen.
Two years ago today my great grandmother passed away from old age and suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. Although all of my memories with her are vague, I will never forget the happiness that emanated from her when you were around her. Even in her last days, when she could barely remember her own children, you never saw her without a smile on her face. And that to me is something that I will carry with me for as long as I