Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
Response to loss of a family member
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: Response to loss of a family member
The field tree was such an odd choice of location for my grandmother’s ashes, but my aunts and uncles were adamant about this decision because of the love she had for its beauty. It’s such a shame that it takes a tragic, life-changing experience before most people to appreciate life itself; this was my story and what possibly saved my life. Five years ago I was an entirely different person, the woman I am today despises who I used to be. I was living between my parent’s house and my ex-boyfriend’s (Jason) grandmothers house at age 26; an overweight, unemployed party animal with no drive, motivation, or intention of ever doing anything different. Jason’s sister, Larae, was my best friend. She was a single parent of 2 children living in the projects and living on welfare. We partied and drank with no responsibilities, and I thought this was the way life was and will always be. …show more content…
My niece walked up to the tree to sing a song while my uncle spread her ashes, and we all sat on the trailer awaiting her final departure. She started to sing, and then the ashes flew. It was windy that day and it carried her ashes much further than intended; this made me very emotional. I kept thinking, “that’s my grandma; she’s just a pile of dust flying in the air.” I began to cry hysterically to the point where I couldn’t breathe or see. “She was a person, I could have spent more time with her, what if she didn’t know how much I loved her?”, were the words that kept repeating in my mind. My whole family was in shock at how badly I was taking it, especially since I was not close to her. I, myself, couldn’t even grasp why it was tearing me apart so badly, and then it hit me; she died knowing that I had gone nowhere in my life; she died and was never able to feel proud of me; she died with the belief I will always be the person I was. This was the turning point that would change my life
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
A moment in time that I hold close to myself is the funeral of my grandmother. It occurred a couple of weeks ago on the Friday of the blood drive. The funeral itself was well done and the homily offered by the priest enlightened us with hope and truth. But when the anti-climatic end of the funeral came my family members and relatives were somberly shedding tears. A sense of disapproval began creeping into my mind. I was completely shocked that I did not feel any sense of sadness or remorse. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted to mourn, but there was no source of grief for me to mourn. My grandma had lived a great life and left her imprint on the world. After further contemplation, I realized why I felt the way I felt. My grandmother still
Everything is perfectly fine, everything is great, then one day it all comes crashing down and shattered pieces are left. My life would never be the same but I guess change is for the best and it forced me to become the person I am today. It’s rough to be the oldest child, especially when your mom is diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and you have 3 younger sisters that look to you for comfort when their mom can’t be there. When the cancer is spread throughout your moms body doctors can’t just get rid of it no matter how badly you wish they could. Rounds of chemotherapy only slow it down, yet it’s still there a lurking monster waiting to reappear at any given moment. Nothing can even begin to describe the fear I felt, and still have to deal with today, but something happened where I could be there for others. What would Sheridan think, or what would 8 year old Lane think if they saw me cry? I had to be Strong not only for me, but for my other family members.
Once in a while helping those in need can be very beneficial. People are not the only ones that need to survive. Plants need to survive because without them we would not be able to breath. At school I had to think of a place to do some charity work. Since everyone was going to do theirs based off of people, I along with two of my friends decided to work at a place called Shade Tree. Shade Tree is an organization which helps our environment and helps keep the environment clean and well organized. Shade Tree helped me learn a lot and it was a very great hands on experience.
I can still remember that small enclosed, claustrophobic room containing two armed chairs and an old, brown, paisley print couch my dad and I were sitting on when he told me. “The doctors said there was little to no chance that your mother is going to make it through this surgery.” Distressed, I didn’t know what to think; I could hardly comprehend those words. And now I was supposed to just say goodbye? As I exited that small room, my father directed me down the hospital hallway where I saw my mother in the hospital bed. She was unconscious with tubes entering her throat and nose keeping her alive. I embraced her immobile body for what felt like forever and told her “I love you” for what I believed was the last time. I thought of how horrific it was seeing my mother that way, how close we were, how my life was going to be without her, and how my little sisters were clueless about what was going on. After saying my farewells, I was brought downstairs to the hospital’s coffee shop where a million things were running
Entering the chapel, I observed all the familiar and unknown faces around me. After about fifteen minutes of being introduced to people who claimed they remember me, a man who I couldn’t identify began to talk. Throughout the rest of the ceremony, different people read their encomiums in which they had written about my grandfather. It was odd. For the duration of the funeral, I felt disconnected. I felt devastated, but in an emotionless, indescribable way. This had been the first funeral I had ever attended. Surrounding me were faces full of devastation and tears racing down from the dozens of luminous eyes. I still felt detached. Why do people cry at funerals? Maybe the person they lost wouldn’t want them to be sad, maybe they would want them to honor this moment and praise the life that they’d lived. After an approximately thirty minute long funeral, we were asked to rise as the pallbearers entered. Before I knew it, I found myself in a line of sorrow, waiting to see my grandfather. The body laying before me was not my grandfather, but rather the body of my grandfather outlined against the velvety interior of the basket. After everyone had their turn, the pallbearers placed a bouquet of orchids on top of the casket. Orchids represent strength and my grandfather was indeed a strong
Our dad had died of a heart attack. Even though they were divorced at the time of his death I could tell it had hit her hard. After she told us it was as if a shield she’d been holding had crumbled and she had cried with us at her side. Now our mom was to fully take on the role of a single mother of two young children, not to mention our older siblings she still had to worry about with the oldest still in college and the other moving across the country. When I look back to these days after his death I begin to notice things my mom did for us that I mightn’t have even blinked at then. I didn’t realize yet just how much she did and is doing. After that I really looked closely at all that she does and decided my mom truly is my personal Michigan hero.
Spending time in the county turned this city kid into the caring, interested, and technical person I am today. When I turned thirteen I started spending my summers in the New Madrid & Dunklin County Missouri. At either my step-mothers farm, or my Grandfathers farm. If you imagine a city slicker, surrounded by dirt, produce and this room with an old computer. I thought I would never make it!
All my life ,I’ve always wanted to be someone in life who can actually make a difference to this world in a positive way. Ever since I was a little girl I pushed myself to always best I can be just . I lived in a town outside Los Angeles, California , it was called Van Nuys,California.The elementary school (Kittridge Elementary) I had went to was in a low income area, mainly spanish community had lived in the area I was living in at the time .I had a lot of friends (mainly mexicans) I focused a lot on being on time for school , staying on task in class, and finishing my homework. At such a young age I had felt such ambition and was doing very good for myself. At the age of 10 was when reality start to really hit me , even though I was very young I started to see things differently.
Feeling the waves crash against the edge of my little Butterfly and lapping over the sides onto me, I flew through the water. I held the ropes and rudder securely in my hands as I aimed straight for the sailboat ahead of me and, beyond the other boat, the buoy. All was going well when suddenly a wind gust came in, and I knowingly kept the sails sheeted in with the intent of getting back into the race. Despite struggling to keep control over the boat, I felt the sail tip and plummet into the water below. I fell over backwards into the refreshing water as I watched my competitors sail on. This happened again and again and I am pretty sure I set a new record for the most capsizes in a Camp Michigania teen regatta. Ever. Period.
It's six o'clock. From down the hall, I hear my mother's footsteps approaching. The door opens.
"Favorite food!" Sam pounces the question at me from behind, as we balance along a beam on the North Light park.
Two years and four months ago I died. A terrible condition struck me, and I was unable to do anything about it. In a matter of less than a year, it crushed down all of my hopes and dreams. This condition was the death of my mother. Even today, when I talk about it, I burst into tears because I feel as though it was yesterday. I desperately tried to forget, and that meant living in denial about what had happened. I never wanted to speak about it whenever anyone would ask me how I felt. To lose my Mom meant losing my life. I felt I died with her. Many times I wished I had given up, but I knew it would break the promise we made years before she passed away. Therefore, I came back from the dead determined and more spirited than before.
Now that he was gone, I had no one to show my true self to, and so little by little, I began to change into someone who I was not, longing to be understood in a world I was unfamiliar with. I didn’t realize how much of an effect my grandfather’s death had on me until I began to reflect on all of my past relationships with other people during a quiet moment of self analyzation in the middle of the night. I realized that deep within myself was lying a fear of losing the ones who I cared for and the more that I cared for someone, the more fearful I became of losing them. After acknowledging this fear, I began to cry and all of my emotions that I felt as a child came back to me however, as the last tear fell from my face, I felt an immense amount of peace surround me. It was at that moment that I realized after my confrontation with my fears that I was free of this trauma and was now more strong than I had ever been before. It was at this moment that I remembered who I was and as my ego crashed into the ground, I was reborn like a phoenix from the
As a child, I always thought life was just grand! My days were spent having fun at school, coming home to a loving family, and playing outside with my sisters, all-over fun days. Yes, that is how they were, until the day reality smacked me in the face like a mack-truck colliding with a concrete wall. My world came tumbling down the day my grandmother died, and it all worsened from there. After this milestone in my life, I learned of other things that hurt me almost as equally as much as my grandmother’s death. It was a lot to handle as a child. As I read my journal from this time in my life, I wonder in amazement about why some of these things hurt me so much. Although these things weekend my spirit, I was a strong, will-powered girl and forced myself to move on and see the good in life.