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Stories about my personal narrative
Stories about my personal narrative
Personal narrative stories
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"A thing of pure beauty it was, nearly burned my retinas it did." "What was it grandpa?" I asked my eyes wide. My heart was racing with as much excitement as a 6 year old could muster it was my first time hearing the story but not my last. The first burning fire that sparked within my soul but far from the only one. I gazed at my grandpa my hands on his knees and stared him down as if I could pull the answer from his mind using my own I looked him in the eyes with an expression I imagined to be ruthless and intimidating but he simply smiled at me crinkinling the skin around his light brown eyes that matched my own. "Well it was a thing of pure beauty" I stared at him a look of confusion replacing the previous look on my face."But grandpa that’s
not what I meant what was it?" Now my grandpa had his own look of confusion until it cleared like a sun parting through the clouds brightening the room. "a girl" he said a smile in his voice. "a girl" I had said disgusted. "now don’t act like that William your mother's a girl right?" I nodded "well this girls no different well save for the fact that she sometimes played in the sky." I looked at him then mouth open in shock. "the sky" I said my voice barely a whisper. "How'd she get up there and what's she doing how do I get up there an-" " now, now those are quite a few questions, questions that will have to be answered on your next visit" my eyes began to fill with tears and my bottom lip pushed out in a pout." Now wait just a moment haven't you been practicing your writing." I nodded "well I want you to write out every single question you have and on your next visit I'll answer everyone of them deal?" Just as quickly as my lip popped out it went back in "Deal!"
I noticed how white and well-shaped his own hands were. They looked calm, somehow, and skilled. His eyes were melancholy, and were set back deep under his brow. His face was ruggedly formed, but it looked like ashes – like something from which all the warmth and light had dried out. Everything about this old man was in keeping with his dignified manner (24)
“I still recall… going into the large, darkened parlor to see my brother and finding the casket, mirrors and pictures all draped in white, and my father seated by his side, pale and immovable. As he took no notice of me, after standing a long while, I climbed upon his knee, when he mechanically put his arm about me and with my head resting against his beating heart we both sat in silence, he thinking of the wreck of all his hopes in the loss of a dear son, and I wondered what could be said or done to fill the void in his breast. At length, he heaved a deep sign and said: “Oh, my daughter, I wish you were a
Father, computer server engineer, alcoholic, and felon. My dad, Jason Wayne DeHate, has influenced my life, not only genetically, but he has also improved my character and creativity throughout the years. Beginning at age two, I was cultured with profanity spit from rappers such as Eminem. While my mother was at work we had multiple videotaped “jam sessions” and coloring time that allowed for the foundation of friendship we have today. The jam sessions consisting of me mumbling and stumbling in front of the television, as he was “raising the roof” from his lazyboy. Since then, he has taught me how to rollerblade, change wiper blades, and play my favorite sport, tennis. Along with influencing my leisure activities and the music I enjoy, his prominent personality allows me to grow as a person. Being the only male figure in my immediate family, I
The poem His stillness by Sharon Olds gave her a definite understanding of the man that she called “father.” Olds grew up in an abusive family home because her dad was always known as an alcoholic. Because of her dad’s habit, created hard living environments for her and she wished that her parents never got married. Whenever liquor was in her dad’s system, he was unemotional making life for Olds hard. She never described the things that he did to her. The visit to the doctor’s office made her opened up to her dad. She saw her dad as lovely and caring family man and she never imagine him being the man that he was at the doctor’s office. He did not overreacted when he heard news; instead he was calm and accepted the news. She felt tremendously sad for her dad and from there now she started noticing the man she never knew. Olds and her dad bond grew stronger at the doctor’s office. The man she had always known for his abusive behavior turned out the most caring man in the world.
By definition, my grandfather is handicapped. However, he doesn't act as though he is, and he certainly does not want to be treated in any special way.
I remember as a young child about 9 years old always given the privilege to visit my grand parents in Rutherfordton, North Carolina in the summers. I loved my grandparents with all my heart since they were the only set I had ever known. My father had left my brother and I at a young age and his parents had seemed to have left as he did. Every now and then they would resurface but never really had any part in my life. My mother’s parents were known to all of us as “Maw-maw and Paw-Paw”. With me being from the North all the Yankees addressed their grandparents as “Grandma and Grandpa”. I always felt extra special being able to call them Maw and Paw. It gave me a feeling as if “they”were different from other grandparents and in my eyes they were. My Maw-Maw was very short and plump, glasses, wore a dress with an apron and pure white hair with yellow highlights. I remember hugging her one day and the sun was reflecting from her hair. I noticed the yellowish streaks that flowed throughout. My hair was dark brown and it made me wonder what I was going to look like with white hair as she did. Her hands worked tripled the years I had lived. They were hands that were worked to the bone by farm life but when I was hurt she would comfort me. Those hands you would have thought belonged to a brain surgeon. She married at 13 years old and had her first born at 14 years old. Eight children in all and a marriage of 54 years to follow. My Paw-Paw was of a tall nature and had black coal hair. He had skin as brown as clay and he never showed his skin. He always wore long sleeve shirts and overalls and boots. He would say, “The Lord does't want us to be runnin' around naked”. Later I would come to know that my Paw-Paw had allot of those Lord s...
A man already in decay, having given my best years to feed the hungry dream of knowledge,—what had I to do with youth and beauty like thine own! Misshapen from my birth-hour, how could I delude myself with the idea that intellectual gifts might veil physical deformity in a young girl’s fantasy! … Nay, from the moment when we came down the old church-steps together, a married pair, I might have beheld the bale-...
As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……
Four years ago I lost a very special person in my life from cancer. My grandpa's death had a huge impact on my life along with my other family members. My grandpa was my biggest fan and probably the Wisconsin Badger's as well. Every game I could look into the stands and he would be there. Since he has passed, before every basketball game I think of him saying "Shoot a couple 3's for me tonight". I used this as an inspiration to do my best in every play of the game. My grandpa helped me set personal goals such as making fifty three's in a season, which I accomplished my last game of my junior year.
The people who I look up to is my mom and my dad. Ever since I was born, they helped me with my problem that I have. Every day after school my mom would help me with my homework, because most of the time I don’t understand my assignment, that she knew how to do some math work, because I would forget how to answer my math, while my dad is at work. On his days off me and my dad would sometimes go fishing in the river or a lake, because he would like to spend time with. Other times we would go hunting for deer or bird, because it would be boring if we didn’t do
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
As children grow up they always look up to someone special in their life, someone that they can trust and is always there for them. This person is someone they admire and hope to be like someday. The person that I’ve described best fits my Grandma. She knows all the right things and is there whenever I need her. My grandma is one of the most important people in my life and I’m so happy that I have her.
He appreciated his mother. She was a woman in her forties, quite short, and slim. She was neither muscular, nor weak, and always wore velvet clothes and a small handkerchief. As appropriate to a French woman, she was meticulously well-kept; her eyebrows perfectly shaped as a narrow semi-circle, her eyelashes, long and straight, her long, black, wavy hair, her almost-perfect, straight teeth, and that one askew tooth which is her identifying mark, and symbolizes even she wasn’t perfect. And she wasn’t.
There was no lawn, but there were four flower planters. The house was painted all white, with the exception of the front door that was painted light green. My grandfather was still young, strong, and full of life, he always had time to play with his grandchildren. Every Sunday he would take us to the park, would buy us ice cream, and take us to Sunday mass. On the day when this picture was taken, we were celebrating my 10th birthday, and I was dancing with my grandfather. I cannot remember the song, but I do remember what he told me while dancing slowly. He said “My little girl” how he used to call me,” in five years you won’t be a little girl, you will become a young lady.” At that moment I could not understand what he meant, but in my mind I was saying “grandpa I will always be your little girl.” While dancing, he made me a promise, “My little girl on your 15th birthday, I will dance the first song with you.” Who would know that he was going to die on my 15th birthday year, he passed away on June 21th, 1987 on Father’s Day. He left me with so many beautiful memories, but the most important was my first dance on my 10th birthday. On the night before my 15th birthday, I went to bed around 10 p.m. I was feeling depressed, because I was only thinking of the promise that my grandfather had made in the past. A promise that in my mind was not going to
“That day when you saved me from that gang of retards....and protected the maiden within me... I learnt for the first time, what this thing called ‘love’ was!!” “ I decided that, I’ll be yours and will only love you, for the rest of my life”. “....yo-you too, love me right?...”, the girl said in her small trembling voice, stuttering...but her face, it felt like it had something else to say, she had this enigmatic stare, as if, into nothingness...with eyes of a dead fish, she gestured, as if, asking to the photo she held. It felt like, to her, the man in the photo she held was actually sitting beside her.