I have lived with my grandparents my whole life and supposedly my mom was around for almost a year but of course I wouldn’t remember. My grandparents are very nice, they love me, and take very good care of me but I get lonely from time to time when they are at work and I’m not in school. They make good money so that I can go to a really nice school and they got a cat named Charley for me to keep me company. He is my best friend. My birthday is next month and I am going to be thirteen! I am not able to do much for my birthday this year because of the war going on around us. The destruction makes me so sad. Where we live isn’t really ruined because of where we are located but that doesn’t mean we don’t see other places that get destroyed. …show more content…
Grandma Judy had told me that my mom “sometimes sends pictures and postcards to let us know she is okay.” How did I not catch her the first time? Grandma Judy wasn’t talking about the past when she told me that, she was talking about the present! They probably knew where she was all this time and didn’t tell me! I kept looking and reading then decided I just had to get all the evidence together that I could find and have a serious discussion with my grandparents. After dinner is when I would talk to them. It was about seven o’clock and all of our bellies were full so I decided it was the time to talk. Marching to my room, I grabbed my box of evidence and brought it down to the living room. “What’s going on sugarplum?” Grandpa asked. “I know it is not polite of me to have gone through your things, but I did and I found a picture of my mom. A couple of days later I wanted to look at it again and this time there was more pictures and some postcards. The postcards are dates from recently and I don’t understand what’s going on. Whether you think so or not, I am old enough to know what my mom is doing that she couldn’t provide for me herself.” As I finished my speech they glanced at each other and then my grandpa finally spoke …show more content…
She has always respected us, but she just felt she fit in with those in the circus. That isn’t a good place for a child to grow up because they travel all over and you wouldn’t be able to get a good education.” Grandpa paused for a moment to breathe. “The circus your mom is a part of is a little different than most and those in it are believed to all be a type of gang. Your mother of course always denies that but we can’t be sure she is telling the truth.” This seemed to upset him a little as he talked. Grandma Judy pitched in. “She figured if she stopped by a couple of times a year it would only confuse you, so she just decided it was just best to stay away.” This saddened me a bit but I wasn’t angry, it made sense. I just wish she would have chosen to live a different life style so that I could have a mom, someone to be close to. I told my grandma and grandpa I understood why she did what she did. “You guys know I love you and appreciate everything you do for me, I don’t take anything for granted. I just wish you would have told me the real reason
The Grandmother is a bit of a traditionalist, and like a few of O’Connor’s characters is still living in “the old days” with outdated morals and beliefs, she truly believes the way she thinks and the things she says and does is the right and only way, when in reality that was not the case. She tends to make herself believe she is doing the right thing and being a good person when in actuality it can be quite the opposite. David Allen Cook says in hi...
"Don't worry dude, she just likes to look after her students, she's really kind in that weird family relative way"
My grandmother has a certain look in her eyes when something is troubling her: she stares off in a random direction with a wistful, slightly bemused expression on her face, as if she sees something the rest of us can’t see, knows something that we don’t know. It is in these moments, and these moments alone, that she seems distant from us, like a quiet observer watching from afar, her body present but her mind and heart in a place only she can visit. She never says it, but I know, and deep inside, I think they do as well. She wants to be a part of our world. She wants us to be a part of hers. But we don’t belong. Not anymore. Not my brothers—I don’t think they ever did. Maybe I did—once, a long time ago, but I can’t remember anymore. I love my grandmother. She knows that. I know she does, even if I’m never able to convey it adequately to her in words.
I look at my mom and shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know, I think she was talking to her friend about a party or something.”
It was a dark cold night in December. Opening the door to their house, the den sat quiet as usual, but something else was different. Walking to the living room, I did not hear a voice that always greeted me with joy. There was no room for joy, or laughter anymore. When I sat down, my Pa Pa’s bed sat across from me. I could see the bones through his skin, the bagginess of his white t-shirt, and the sadness that rest in his eyes. On his lips, a smile no longer lived. “Hi Pa Pa”, I say as I walked over to k...
The news of Grandma Singer dying had hit me like a punch to the gut. I quickly became so wrought up that I hadn’t even noticed when my mama began consoling me when she’d wrapped her arms tightly around me. At that moment it was as if I was a million miles away and all I could feel was this impenetrable wall of sadness welling up inside of me. Looking back, I don’t think I’d ever felt more abject in my entire life than I did right then, curled up in my mama’s arms crying like a baby. But then my mama said something to my step daddy that had changed everything. She said, “So, what do you think is going to happen with her house up in New York
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...
After he had sat with her, he got up and walked away to stand near the door. I sat in the chair next to her bed and the first thing I did was grab her hand, I dropped my head down because I knew our time was coming close to being done, what no one understands is how much of an impact she had on my life. There may have been an 83 year age difference between her and I, but she was my mentor, my story teller, my care provider, she gave me the best advice, she cooked the best food, she was the one I always aimed to make proud, but most of all she was my best friend. “It’s okay to cry, sweetie” said my dad. I didn’t want to cry though, that’s not what grandma would have wanted, but I couldn’t help it, I started to cry a little. How was my dad not crying yet? How could he stay so strong, he was much closer to her than I was, but somehow he managed to stay strong throughout all of it. I sat by her for probably 15 minutes holding her hand, I stood up, hugged her, whispered into her ear “I love you great grandma and I’ll see you when I get there”, I kissed her cheek and turned to leave the room. My dad was standing behind me and I walked into his arms and started crying, I couldn’t handle knowing that this could be the last time that I
I went to school tired from listening to my parents conversation at two in the morning. I had a great day. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to hear the argueing. When I got home. My grandmother was at our house. I thought it was very strange. My grandmother never came over unless she was dropping off clothes or something. So I knew she was there for a reason and it wasn’t going to be good.
Becoming a mom at sixteen was the hardest thing I have ever done. Trying to work, go to school and take care of my daughter seemed impossible. My mom was always there to support me, but from the moment I found out I was pregnant I was determined to do it on my own. When you become a mom at sixteen the paths you can take in life change, and you are no longer a teenage you become an adult really fast.
“Because I can’t figure out this stupid question or maybe just like teacher said I am just not smart enough to figure it out. I think I just can’t do it” I replied and threw my pen away. The pen dropped on the ground, rolled slowly and stopped beside my bed. Grandma sighed, walked down to the pen, and picked it up. It seemed that she already got used to my recent
In America, there are many kinds of families. I decided to research parenting in the case that the Grandparent is a main caregiver. I also want to contrast the difference that parents have being a first-time parent, versus a being a parent as a grandparent. The book says, “In general, skipped-generation families have several strikes against them” but also says, “[the] discussion of grandparents who live with their grandchildren should not obscure the general fact that most grandparents enjoy their role…” (Berger, 486). With this, I am going to interview my sixty-seven-year-old grandma, she was forty-six when I was born and became a primary caregiver for me alongside my dad. I think that my grandma is going to say that she is glad that she was
I have a lot of cousins; therefore I am not the only grandchild for my grandparents. However, I was the only one that was raised by my grandparents. They spent the most of their times on me compared to my other cousins. For example, I slept with my grandma when I was young. Because of my body was weak, and my hands and feet usually cool all night, my grandma always held my hands and feet to make my body warm. She was told me fairy-tales or real stories at night when I was sick, because she wanted me to feel better. When I was little girl, on the family trip, grandpa always carried me, because he didn’t want me to walk too long. Living without the parent, it made me sad but my grandparents given too much love on
grandmother coming home from work. Soon my real mom came by to “have a serious
She said, “I’m a grandmother, my love for you is just like having another daughter.” I realized that she was my biggest supporter and teaching me how to be independent was something she did from the bottom of her heart. She also felt that since my father wasn’t in my life that I deserved to have all the support from family. My mother is a single mom and my grandmother stepped up to the plate and helped where my mom fell short. I will always have the up-most respect for my grandmother because she went over and beyond for me. I felt as though my grandmother did everything out of love and not because she felt obligated to. She hasn’t missed a beat in my life, every school performance, dance recitals, and band performance my grandmother was there. I am forever grateful for everything that she has done and for things that she has yet to