Descriptive Essay About My Grandmother

My great-grandmother was raised by her mom, dad, and other relatives. She, and many cousins, were raised up as brother and sister in a close-knit family. Harriett Marshall, my great-grandmother, was born in Saltillo, Tennessee on January 7, 1931. She has lived through many trying times. It is a blessing to live through so many events that changed the nation, even the world. She has lived through the following events and many more: The Great Depression, World War II, the historic signing of Jackie Robinson, Brown v. Board of Education, the Civil Rights movement and many more.

She was also a very caring woman. She cared for people even when she was very ill. She was always caring for everyone and everything that she came upon that needed help she always managed to get through everything

I never knew how important my grandma was to me until she was gone. I called my grandma, Mawmaw. She was short with white hair that she would always curl with rollers in the morning. She was a widow, because my grandpa, Pa, passed away when I was five years old. The perfume she wore made her smell like Warm Vanilla Sugar from Bath and Body Works. I never thought I would have to live my life without her until the day she passed away.

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.

My grandmother has been a very important person throughout my life. My entire childhood was spent with her, and we grew older together. Since we spent so much time with one another, it was inevitable for me to always get stuck hearing her stories about the “good ol’ days” and the stories that always started with “back in my time”. Just as any teenager would do, I tuned these stories out and replied with a laugh at the end. Looking back now, I wish that I had paid more attention to those stories that defined my grandmother and made her who she is today. Fortunately, I have been given the opportunity to go back in time with her and let her reminisce and share those stories once again while I listen full heartedly.

Who is your best friend? Some may answer this question with your mom, one of your siblings, or even just a person that is the same age as you. When I am asked 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.

My mommy, one of the most important people in my life, the most selfless individual I know & probably will ever know. From the moment I was born, she was the first person I fell in love with. She is indeed gorgeous, but its her soft light brown eyes that show nothing but kindness the love you get from her make you feel warm on the coldest day. My mom always worked hard to ensure that me and my sister had the best upbringing that we could get, at times she was strict and often talked to me in a stern tone whenever me or my sister made a mistake. Of course no child likes punishment, but as I got older and looked back on it I realized that she was correcting me out of love & not to scrutinize me. Me and my sister always took pride in our mother’s appearance , I especially took pride in her eyes. I remember when she would come to my school for report card pick up , I wanted to make sure everyone knew some way some how, that this beautiful creature was my mother. I’ve seen very beautiful people throughout my lifetime, but very few, match the impeccable beauty that is my mother. The main reason I was always fond of my mother, is because of the way she used to take more than great care of us, especially when one of us were sick. She is a very knowledgeable woman who knew and made different at home remedies to care for us when we fell ill. There was never a moment when we were sick that we felt uncomfortable while we were sick in her care, even the shortest back rubs would put us

One day, I was brought into this world with beautiful blonde hair and the sweetest baby blue eyes. Actually, my hair was barely there, I was pretty much a bald baby. I was ever so loved by my parents and had a big sister who was protective of me. I grew up with a huge extended family who loved me unconditionally. I had two great grandparents, four grandparents, five aunts, five uncles, and twenty cousins all portraying different forms of love as I grew older and older. As all people tend to pick favorites in the family, I am guilty of it as well. I got extremely attached to my paternal grandmother, Sue.

Peeping through the blinds, I wave goodbye to my mom in her red, Mercedes Benz, and to my dad in his white, Toyota van, watching them go opposite directions towards work. I stumble across the couch, leaving indents from my knees, and walk into the kitchen where my grandmother stands with her familiar gray mug filled with steaming coffee and two cubes of sugar. As I walk to her side at the counter, I reach into a pink, plastic fruit basket containing ripe treasures purchased from Lion’s Supermarket. Two fruits: an apple and an orange, immediately sit upon my two hands. Shoving the round red into my grandma’s eyes, I await an answer. She squints, wrinkles deepening on her forehead, as if the apple was the challenge question on a math test. “Or...ange,” she says. I shake my head, and sound out the beginning letters of the fruit I was offering, until the word, “apple,” struggles out of her mouth. We both smile at the accomplishment as she points down at the orange and correctly states its name, confident in fashion. This calls for celebratory peeled orange and sliced sweet apple. Two weeks and two fruits, teaching my Chinese grandma some English words marks the biggest accomplishment of my first grade self.

My grandmother moved about as much as her husband did. Eyes glazed over, locked onto closed lids.

Icy fingers gripped my arm in the darkness, I took my attention from the starry sky to look from the hand that touched me up to the face of my Grandma. She shared a kind smile with me emphasizing her rosey cheeks warming my own despite the winter snow falling around us. My little sister Sara squealed with glee as our shepherd pup Macy hopped around her, wagging her tail so fast the entire back end of her body would follow in sync. Grandma took a deep breath as she rewrapped her rope around her waist, “How does a cup of tea sound?” her voice was soft & kind, “I think it is time we all should get some rest.” I answered glancing back at sara who was still squealing with joy as she watched the pup continue to roll in the glistening pillow of snow surrounding the small patch of land we call home. She nodded in agreement and reached her arm out for me to support her inside.

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, and a warm smile that made anyone feel special if it was directed at them, I want to remember her as my grandma who used make an extra cake when we baked together because she knew that I wouldn't like the one I made, not as my grandma who is on a bed that may as well be her death bed. Her loud laughter used to echo through her small and cozy house that I used to spend all my summers in. Now you'd have to listen closely to be able to hear her, her vocals not being able to produce a sound louder than a whisper.

There she is. Commanding the attention of all eyes as they enter the room. She is sturdy and she is practical. She is there for a purpose and does her job. She works the night shift and occasional days. She comforts the sick and tiered. She is full of admirable qualities. She possess the curves any woman would envy. She is a mixture of light and dark coloring. She is an antique. She is as sturdy and weathered as an old oak tree in the forest. She is polished but does not shine, and is scarred with the use of years. She has been with my great-grandmother for years. I am not sure when she first arrived because she has been with great-grandma my entire life. According to my Uncle she has been there for more than fifty years. She has remained steadfast through the years and different relationships have come and gone. She remains a family heirloom. She remains family.

My great grandmother was like my best friend. I had been close to her ever since I was young up until she passed. I told her nearly everything and she always listened and cared. Whenever I would be with her, I always had a warm welcoming, a comfortable welcoming. Especially at the moment when I hadn’t had nearly anyone there for me, my grandma was always there. She always asked me how my day was, she would always made sure that I was in tact and always had the door open for when I needed her. I loved my grandma to death, through every little adventure that we took and for every little talks that we had. I was/am very appreciative of my grandma and for all that she has done for me.

I spent a great deal of my life listening to her endless stories and advice. The greatest lesson she could have ever taught me is how to be strong, how to fight. She encountered a large amount of pain and heartbreak throughout her life which sculpted one of the strongest women I know. Although these problems floated aimlessly in her world, waiting to attack, her smile never faltered nor did she ever bow her head in defeat. That same smile gives me all the determination I need to push onward.