A Reflection On My Life

The parents came out of Grandma’s room by one by one, bags under their eyes, makeup running down their face, and bright red noses. By that time, I could almost predict what happened. As my mom and dad approached us with their heads down, I prepared myself to hear exactly what I never wanted to hear. “The doctors are turning off the life support machine. She isn’t suffering anymore, and she will be looking over every one of you guys. She said she loves you all so much,” Mom told us while my dad didn’t hide his tears back.

The ride home was much different than the ride to the hospital, Mrs. Girroir reminisced about all the good and the bad times they shared. She told me how he served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War and got several Medals of Honor. She told me the story of how they met in Honduras while he was stationed there. She grinned as she explained how he told her father he would marry her before they even spoke to one another. He was a very confident man, very romantic, yet stubborn and sarcastic. I glanced in the rearview mirror at the girls and saw them smiling listening intently to their mothers stories. The mood was no longer melancholy but lighthearted almost mirthful. We attended the funeral, Janice and I. We had become a part of their family, experienced both sorrow and pain alongside them.

At this point, the first guest speaker went up to the stage. He started after a long pause. As he told everyone his experience as a father, I could feel his heart ache and yearn for his late daughter. As several guest speakers poured their feelings and sentiments into their tragic stories with tears intertwined. They cried out their anguish without feeling alone, but a deeper connection to their body, baby and the universe. It was the pain of losing not only their child, but a part that attached them. The disappointment, the longing, the despair is

Self-refection is not something I like to do or consider myself well versed at accomplishing. However, as this assignment due date is drawing near I am again faced with another friend passing away. His name is Shane, and I worked with him for almost three years in my last unit. He was the definition of a quiet professional, and someone that always seemed to be level headed. He had a beautiful family, consisting of a wife and two young sons about 10 and 12 years old. While I didn’t to work with him for a long period of time, he made a lasting impression with me. He helped mentor me to make decisions only once you have calmed down, take time to look at the whole picture before choosing a course of

Tuesday, September 12th wasn’t any normal day, it was a day of remembrance and sadness. Everyone in the family met at the church at 10 a.m., we then sat there and socialized until eleven o'clock. The preacher, pianist, and singer then walked out into the chapel where we all sat, with emptiness in our hearts. The pianist then started playing a church tune, and the singer, a lady from the church, started singing. Some of the people in the family then glanced at each other and tried not to laugh at the horrid sound of the lady. After she finally stopped singing, the pastor walked up to the casket. He then said, “Bow your heads, We stand here today to honor Robert F. “Bob” Williams.”

I could hear muted sobs as friends and family members began lashing out in tears. Yet, I stood still as ever as memories with my best friend began flashing in my head. I was best friends with a girl who lived right next door to me since birth. We told secrets and laughed with one another since the day I can recall my earliest memory as a child. It was unfortunate to see it all come to an end now that she was gone. All I saw was her lifeless body slowly turning pale on a stretcher stationed on her living room floor. This was one of those moments that makes you question how quickly life can take an unexpected turn. I wasn't willing to accept that

Only then the pain came... I don't look back over my shoulder at the single grave holding Ma and my little brother. I am trying not to look back at anything.... I am awkward with him... We are both changing, we are shifting to fill in the empty spaces left by Ma.(Pages- 62, 73, and

I walked towards the Bleeding Heart Cemetery. The cool October wind blew against my frame, making me wish I wore a coat. I readjusted my grip on my oxygen tank. As I neared Augustus’ grave, the sun light captured the diamond ring Isaac gave me. My stomach flopped upside down. Although the wedding is in 2 weeks, I still felt unsure. I mean, who in their right minds marries their dead boyfriend’s best friend? I slipped the ring into my jean pocket. I located Augustus’ grave and sat down. I felt my stomach churn, realizing I haven’t visited him in months.

The author explains, “he also found out that his father had died of a heart attack in Phoenix, Arizona” (Cisneros 1). No one is prepared for the devastation of losing a parent. Many children have to experience the pain of letting go of a parent, which can never be easy no matter the relationship they had shared. Unfortunately it’s something you have to deal with on your own or with other family members. Nevertheless, parents could never prepare you for something like this because it would be too painful to think

Frustrated he stopped by the fence of the cemetery and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the first grave. There right before him stood a monument with a portrait photo of his bride. That my friends was all he remembered and suddenly the world went black. He didn’t remember much after that-- all he knew was that he woke up a month later in the hospital.

father did not die a ‘complete’ death and that haunts him. This pain is shown in a unique way

After the funeral, the children refurbished his bedroom. Over one long weekend, the room received new paint, wallpaper, furniture, and bedding. They thought doing this might make it easier for him. It didn’t. No matter what the

Beginning the writing process, I established for myself a mental roadmap. I asked myself what I was trying to say, and what the goal or intent of the writing would be. Was I attempting to persuade my readers, or to be didactic instead? I considered the "how" part of the equation later, and honed each sentence word for word. The how part of the writing process was relatively simple compared to the question of what to say, and why. I had to imbue the paper with social commentary, for there was much to say about these readings.

One's dream and aspirations to supersede in life must be stronger and greater than limitations set forth by others. The experience that were bestowed to me during my short life has elevated me to the woman I am today. Please walk with me as I give you the opportunity to see the world from my eyes:

breathe or function at all and would be an empty shell for one cannot operate or function without it.