Descriptive Essay About My Grandmother

My grandma has always been my best friend ever since I could speak.Saturday was the best day of the week. We walked into Steak and Shake, while the smell of grease filling our noses. We would chat about anything as we waited for our food, but we didn’t order milkshakes. After that, we went right across the street to Coldstone, and I got a cotton candy ice cream with gummy bears. The ice cream was sweet and creamy. We moved over to Starbucks where coffee and we talked with my aunt about anything you

My grandmother was a tough lady. At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers. I remember holding her hands as a child, how delicate and soft they seemed and yet that never made them seem any less worn or sturdy. Her hands told stories of different times, of different worlds and hardships. She had grown up worlds away from

this exact same question I used to answer with “my grandma.” My grandma was just a phenomenal woman, and she would do anything for me and the rest of the family to make sure that we are all jubilant. I lived with my grandma, my whole life. We did everything together. From shopping, going in family reunions that we didn’t even want to go to, and attempting to cook new things, but ending up burning it. My grandma and I were always together. She was my rock. I would never of imagined sitting in the

of my kind and caring grandmother. She is one of the most generous people you could ever meet, she is kind to all and loves meeting new people! With what she went through as she raised her children, she could be a cruel, mean old lady. She isn’t cruel or mean though, she is very passionate towards others. My grandmother is my hero because she showed persistence and preserved through all the hard times she went through while trying to raise my mom, three aunts, and uncle. The journey of my true

Last night my grandmother, Kasper, or Kas for short, passed away. She was 79 years old. Which I guess is a pretty long time so I guess I can’t complain. But, It still sucks. My grandma’s death wasn’t unexpected. For the past few years she’s suffered from Alzheimer’s. She was always a little "loopy", so at first no one really noticed something was wrong. Then slowly over time, things became more profound. She started walking into rooms and not remembering why she was there. Making the wrong dish

she loves and cares about us, our family. She was the glue, she held us together. The day she left us felt as if I was hit by a wave, it all came in waves. I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t break the barrier between water and air. It came in waves, then it all came at once. The year was 2015, my grandmother had been recently sick. My mother went flew to Mexico for a week to check on her in the hospital and to take care of her. I was concerned, but I did not want to think about it. I feel horrible saying

My father is of both Italian and French decent. My grandmother arrived on Ellis Island in 1909 with her nine siblings. My mother is also of Italian decent with her ancestors arriving on Ellis Island in 1899 from Naples Italy. I am the first born (1960) of a stereotypical, outspoken, boisterous Italian/French Catholic family. I have two sisters Jannine (1962) and Yvonne (1964). From the time I can remember, there was laughing, loud talking, hand waving, hugging and kissing with an abundance of unconditional

I'm different, even though I may look familiar with my wrinkles running along my forehead and down my cheeks paired with my kind, warm eyes filled with knowledge and wisdom. I'm just your typical grandma, except of course, for the fact that I'm only 5 years old. You may think my life right now would be difficult, but if only you knew how my first couple years of life were. I mean, it was hard enough trying to wobble on 2 feet over to mom's open arms, but imagine doing that with a back problem!

My grandmother's name was Norah. Norah was 73 years old and surprisingly healthy. When I was a child, she played a huge role in my life. I went over to her house at least once a week, and I could always count on my grandma to be there for me. When I became an adult, I started going to college. Unfortunately, I spent most of my money on college tuition, so I couldn't pay for rent anymore. Well, my grandma called me one day and kindly offered me to move into her place for free. Of course I would

My eyes wandered around the room that my grandmother now resided in, drinking up every detail and at the same time, cautiously avoiding the bed that was in the center of the room. I couldn't bear to look at my once lively and animated grandma now laying there looking lethargic. No would even believe me if I described how my she used to look; her expressive eyes were full of knowledge and secrets that only she knew, her surprisingly thick hair that was red from the henna she puts on every other saturday