Personal Narrative: The Story Of Grandma

“Michelle, come downstairs for a moment,” I heard my mom call up to me. Her voice was shaky, from fear or sadness, I didn’t know.
“Coming!” I answered. I flipped over my book, and leaped off of the bed. Grabbing hold of the banister, I swung myself around the landing and down the steps. “What is it?” I asked, approaching my mom, who was sitting on the couch.
She placed her hand on the seat next to her, “Come here,” she said. I continued to walk forward, and then sat down on the cushion next to her, resting my head against the back of the couch. “Michelle, I have something to tell you,” she began, and I had begun to get nervous. What was she going to say? My mom rarely used this tone, and when she did, it was to deliver bad news. What was

it? I braced myself, and looked at her. “I have some unfortunate news,” she said, “it’s about grandma.” Instantly my mind flooded with the worst ideas. What had happened? Was she hurt? Was she sick? Was she going to survive? My mind wandered anxiously to all the times that I had taken my grandmother for granted. All of the times that I had been rude. I would’ve given anything to take them back, to change them, but I knew that I couldn’t. Dozens of experiences I had had came flooding back to me, and before I could stop them, I began reliving them.
I reached forward and took a crayon out of my grandma’s open hand. Crayons. I couldn’t believe it. A nine year old sitting in Olive Garden, and they decided to give me crayons. These things were for a baby. I turned from my grandmother, without making a single sound, let alone saying thank you. My eyes met with my mom's, and she gave me a look that told me to thank my grandmother, but I shook my head. It was just a crayon. Facing my brother, we began to talk and play obnoxiously, completely neglecting everyone at the table, including my parents and grandparents. I was talking with my brother, and I snapped the crayon my grandmother had given me. I tossed it to the side, and when I turned my head, I saw my grandma’s face. She looked hurt, and I knew it was because of me, but after debating whether or not I should say something, I decided that she would be fine, and I turned back to my brother, ignoring her once more. However, sitting by my mom’s side on the couch as I awaited the dreadful news, I recalled another memory of my grandmother. It had been a regular Thursday, and instead of my mom picking me up from school, it had been my grandma, always ready to help when she could. She picked me up, but in the process, she had drove into the wrong lane, which lead to the principal coming over to our car. I sunk down in my seat, humiliated. As the principal explained what was going on, what seemed to be the entire school was filing out of the doors to watch. My grandma apologized, and we managed to leave, after what seemed like an eternity. I sat silently in my seat as my grandmother drove me home, but when we reached the house, I erupted.
“Why would you do that?” I asked, infuriated and embarrassed.
“I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mea-”
“I know you didn’t mean to, but you did. You embarrassed me in front of the whole school! How could you do that?” I continued.
“I didn’t know Michelle,”
“It doesn’t matter. Why couldn’t mom just have picked me up? It’s all your fault!” I ran up the stairs to the house, and without thinking, without worrying about hurting her, I slammed the door in my grandma’s face.
“Michelle?” my mom’s voice shook me from my daze.
“Y-yes mom, what happened to grandma? Is she going to be ok?” I asked, my voice shaking.
My mom sighed before answering.

“Grandma has cancer.” she said, and those three words seemed to hang in the air. I felt as though someone has hit me hard. “She’ll be going in for a major surgery soon, and we hope she’ll be okay. She has esophageal cancer. The doctors will be-” she continued, but I wasn’t listening. It was as if my mind had gone blank. Was she going to survive? What would I do if she didn’t? It was that moment that I realized that just like the crayon, my life seemed to snap. I leaned forward, and rested my head in my hands. There were so many things I had done that I regretted, but I couldn’t change them. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I may not have been able to take back the things that I had said, but I could apologize for them. I had to. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that my grandma might pass away, thinking that I didn’t appreciate or love her. I had to fix

this.
“Mom?” I asked, looking up at her and wiping tears out of my eyes.

“Yes Michelle?”
“Can we- can we go visit grandma now? I want to talk to her.”
My mom looked at me, taking my face in her hands, and smiled, “Of course we can. They’re moving her to the hospital tomorrow, but she’ll be resting at home now. We can visit right now if you’d like.” I nodded. Placing my hands at the end of the couch cushion, I pushed myself up, and followed my mom to the car. Minutes later, we arrived at my grandma’s house. I rushed up the stairs, and into her house. A familiar floral scent came over me, and I walked to the stairs that lead to the second floor.
“Grandma?” I called, as I began to ascend the carpeted stairs. When I reached the second floor, I headed to my grandma’s room, where I saw her lying in her bed. I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed near her.
“Hello Michelle,” she said to me, as I turned to look at her.
“Hi Grandma,” I answered, not meeting her eyes out of embarrassment and shame. “There’s something that I need to tell you.” I took a breath, trying to calm myself, but I couldn’t. Tears started to flood down my cheeks as I struggled to find the right words to say. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so

sorry.”
“For what?” she asked, looking concerned.
“For everything. I’m sorry that I was mean, and dreadful, and I know I can’t undo all of the horrible things that I’ve said and done, but can you please forgive me?” I looked up, my face stained with tears.
“Oh Michelle, I’ve never been upset with you. I will always love you, and I know, that no matter what you say sometimes,” she said giving me a weak smile, “you will always love me too.” I turned my tear streaked face towards my grandma, who despite how I acted, had always been kind to me. She wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace, and in that moment, it seemed as though everything had snapped into place.
It’s been five years since that day, and everything is still perfect. Despite the hard times of her treatments, everyone has tried to remain positive. My grandma has thankfully been cancer free for a long time, and I have come to appreciate her more. Not only her life, but I feel that all life in the world must not be taken for granted, and we must appreciate it, because one never really knows when it could be taken from them.