The earliest death I can remember was the death of my mother’s uncle. I was about ten years old and what I remember most about it was that my mother (who drove us to school every morning) said a prayer for starting the car. This was rare because we are not a religious family at all but on that day she prayed and I remember being very sad that she was sad. I don’t remember the visitation, the funeral, or anything of that nature but I just remember how sad my mother was. I learned that deaths affect every individual differently and basing your emotions off other people isn’t healthy. However, this experience also taught me about empathy. I felt sad, not because a person I barely knew had died, but because my mother who I love so deeply was hurting. …show more content…
She was the matriarch of our family, the glue that held us together through every fight, struggle, or separation. My grandma had four daughters who we called the Big Four and then she had four grandkids, the Little Four. We are all insanely close and when my grandma was diagnosed with cancer, we brushed it off thinking we were invincible. My grandparents were hard-working, middle class farmer family, my grandma being a teacher most her life. They lived in a small town 150 people, the whole town knew who they were. My grandma was deeply well-respected, loved my all. Her house was right next to our (the Little Four’s) elementary school so for lunch we would just cut through the forest that separated the school and her house and she would cook us whatever we wanted (usually Grandma Eggs and toast with jam). We would walk back over, full and happy, to the dismay of our jealous
As a little girl I remember going Morrel mushroom hunting with my maternal grandparents and cousins at my great-grandmothers property. My great-grandmother raised sheep until she was 86 years old and the family had to sell them for her safety. She was crawling across the road in the winter to care for them. I remember her always heaving at least one “bottle baby” in the house every year; the grand kids loved to help her feed them. I always loved going to her house on the weekend and making molasses cookies with her and drinking hot
My first experience with death as a child happened when I was eleven years old. My grandfather passed away in his sleep from heart failure. I had spent that night at a girlfriends, when I came home I asked my father where my mother was. He replied simply that my grandfather had passed and she was with my grandmother. It was not discussed any further and I went to my room where I awaited my mothers return. My mother proceeded to explain what happened. I was more concerned with her well being than the death itself. At the time I knew what death was. I had a fascination with death as a child, it was something that greatly interested me. My grandfather had a very traditional funeral. I was very timid and curious at the viewing. I felt uncomfortable
Grandma beat me in Monopoly every time--her iron got all the good properties. She taught me how to cross stitch. She let my sister and I have a fashion show using all of her clothes and accessories.
She always insisted on helping people of any age. If people asked to donate money to an orphanage or children's hospital she would always say yes. She always donated her clothes to the thrift shop for people that were less fortunate and needed the clothes. My grandma always told me that you will shine more when giving and helping people more than you will being on a famous sports team. That has taught me that helping somebody is helping yourself, it make you feel better inside because you know that you just helped somebody that needed it. One day me and my mom were walking into the grocery store when an elderly lady came out and drop her receipt a lot people walked right past her even though she had a walker and couldn’t pick it up, I walked up to her even though she didn’t ask for help and picked up her receipt and gave it to her. She looked at me and said “ this world needs more people in it like you.” she thank you with a big simile on her face and walked away. This is still with me today and will be with me throughout the years that are coming that helping somebody is actually helping
In the process of reading chapter two, I immediately thought back two years ago. I had the worst Stressor. I've had in my only 16 years of living. My great grandmother, who I lived with along with my mother, my whole life. She passed from stomach cancer. September 14 2013, I remember getting out of the shower with a smile on my face, and my grandmother casually walking in and said "Granny died at 2:34 this morning. I'm going to Chicago and I'll come back the day before the funeral. " My family works in the funeral industry but we do not own a funeral home and we have never buried such a close family member of ours. With my Step father and my mother losing their minds, and my little sister not knowing how to process this and my aunt just down right disappearing, I had to handle this. I was 14 at the time and I was calling on older friends to take me to the bank, finishing arrangements, picking clothes, doing the memorial video and the catering because none of my family offered to cook. I was panicking and literally running from place to place because I was trying to get things done. I was eating more and sleeping less, and from
while, being as he was rushing to Cooper Hospital to see my mother. At this
When I was younger, I remember feeling as though I lived in a bubble; my life was perfect. I had an extremely caring and compassionate mother, two older siblings to look out for me, a loving grandmother who would bake never ending sweets and more toys than any child could ever realistically play with. But as I grew up my world started to change. My sister developed asthma, my mother became sick with cancer and at the age of five, my disabled brother developed ear tumors and became deaf. As more and more problems were piled upon my single mother’s plate, I, the sweet, quiet, perfectly healthy child, was placed on the back burner. It was not as though my family did not love me; it was just that I was simply, not a priority.
My father died just two weeks after my sixteenth birthday in my Sophomore year. He was strong and nothing could stop him in my eyes. He would always be there, standing tough with a smile waiting for me to come home.
We moved closer to her once I started school. My Grandma met my brother and me almost always once we got home from school. It was always welcoming to have a friendly face when you got home. She taught me how to read and write and once I was able to read she dedicated numerous books to me that she always recommended and had such a vivid story. On hot summer days she would take us to the beach and play in the water and sand, or have a great time running around on the park, or just going there to enjoy a nice picnic. We had such a long walk to our front door of numerous winding steps and she came up with a game to play down them. We called ...
With all the baby photos I had with my grandmother, it would be safe to say that she has been with me my whole life. My family and I would visit her when we weren’t busy, but it was usually for one day. Every time I walked through the door of her apartment, she would be cooking away in her kitchen. Most of the times, the foods were our favorites, and there was more than enough for everyone.
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
Every day in our lives we encounter moments that have an impact on the way that we live and behave. Among those moments some definitely carry more weight that others and have a much greater impact on our psyche. One of the most significant moments in my life was when I was in the eleventh grade and had to attend my grandfather’s funeral. It led me to experience a lot of thoughts and emotions that had never crossed my mind before. I never personally had to think about death before, so it was something very challenging to deal with since I had never encountered such a tragic moment before. It was an emotional experience that was extremely challenging to overcome. The memories from the funeral stayed with me long after the funeral had passed, I looked back at the memories and how they helped me mature, as well as develop as a person.
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.
In my life time, I have experienced many deaths. I have never had anyone that was very close to me die, but I have shed tears over many deaths that I knew traumatically impacted the people that I love. The first death that influenced me was the death of my grandfather. My grandfather passed away when I was very young, so I never really got the chance to know him. My papaw Tom was my mothers dad, and she was very upset after his passing. Seeing my mom get upset caused me to be sad. The second death that influenced my life was the death of my great grandmother. My great grandmother was a very healthy women her whole life. When she was ninety three she had
My grandmother has always been my biggest supporter throughout my life. My Grandmother is my back bone; she is the reason why I am the person that I am today. Most people hear the word grandmother and expect to see older lady with possible white hair, standing in the kitchen cooking and baking, evening sewing. My grandmother is the exact opposite of those things, she is still employed full time, enjoys making jewelry and furniture. Although she is only five two she is very witted and outspoken she never bites her tongue and will always give her opinion even if you don’t ask for it. There is a softer side to her, she will give you her last and be a listening ear day or night. Like the saying goes “to know me is to love me” and believe me