First Funeral Narrative

Why did my father die?” She held my hand. “Sometimes we think we should be able to know everything. But we can’t. We have to allow ourselves to see what there is to see, and we have to imagine.”

I have lost my grandpa and have not gotten over the idea of it. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandfather was very sick; he could barely walk. While my grandmother and some other family members went uptown for some household things, food, and medication, I was told to take care of him. Yet, I wanted to play with my friends outside. He told me to go ahead and play, but for some reason I just got mad and slammed the door and left. Around nighttime, I seen an ambulance pull up to my grandparents’ house.

Rhonda, a friend of Andy’s, writes about her most frightening moment for her English homework. She chooses to write about the accident, stating, “I thought we’d all come back for our reunions and then we'd get old, and then, when we're so old it doesn't matter anymore, we’d die. But he's dead already. I didn't think it was possible. And that's why it's so scary.” Like many people, Rhona has likely never experienced the death of a close one before in her life. So when death strikes, it’s overwhelming and people often don’t know how to react. Before my grandmother passed away, only distant relatives I barely knew had died, so this became the first time I lost someone I truly cared for. But, like Rhonda, I could never prepare myself for when she did die. It’s incredibly scary to lose someone you love, and it’s especially hard when you aren’t sure of how to deal with death. The author included this section to relate to the readers, because most of them know the scary and confusing feelings after someone you care for dies and you’re struck with the reality of mortality.

I could hear my breathing as if it was a voluntary action. As I saw my mom car come screeching into the driveway, she rushed out, I ran up to her as I tearfully asked, "Is he okay?" With hesitancy and a sorrow- filled voice she said, "He's dead," I screamed over and over again, "No, no, not my brother! Anyone but him!" and I broke down crying, I felt as if I was paralyzed, I felt like I was suffocating; as if a giant hand was clamped around my heart, I wanted to run, I wanted to scream, I wanted for it to not be

I thought I was gone died that day cause I never experience’s something like that before. We open the washroom door there were two huge trees in our living room and the roof cave in. My mother start screaming and crying, and the house down there street was all gone, but it was some houses that didn’t get hit. I come out and I could do was fall on my knees and start crying until I just couldn’t cry no more. My mother hug me so tight and I said I love you so much and I told her I love her too. There were power lines down in the street so my mother sent me for help and as I’m walking in the street and I see this lady on the ground and then I run to her to see she was ok but it was too late she was already gone that’s when I knew she were dead. I didn’t know what to do so I found this blanket that I found in the street and I just cover her body. That was my first time seeing a dead body without it being in a casket. I couldn’t find nobody so I headed back home and told my mother what I did and she was in shock. But there was houses that didn’t get that’s when the neighbors came out and everybody was asking are you ok. I was so mad I didn’t want to say

She told stories that began to have new meaning when she told them for the last time. They felt deeper and drive themselves further into my heart where they still reside. Nana then went on to explain how she was sick of fighting and her one wish was for us to just let her go peacefully. At the time I was so angered by her selfishness. How could she give up when my aunt had another baby on the way. A baby that would never know her grandmother. A baby who would never know the warmth of her hugs. I begged her to stay. I cried at her side begging her to stay so we could make more memories like the ones that she had just told. She refused and told me to stay strong with a smile that I took the wrong way. I was so angry at her. How could she abandon her family? How could she be so greedy to do this? I told her I loved her and walked out of the room in a rage and when I got to the hallway I collapsed in an immense rush of emotions. This competes for the lowest part of my life. I sobbed on the floor and didn’t care who saw me or when a kind nurse tried to help me up. I was frozen in anguish as my mind tried to figure out what was happening. If I had known

In the essay “The Death of the Funeral Business”, the author Sandy Hingston repeatedly illustrates the different roles that technology plays in constructing modern funeral rituals. Over the past years, technology has become such a big part of our daily lives, that now funeral homes are changing rapidly to fit in with all of the technological advances that have been happening to the world around us. I believe that in “The Death of the Funeral Bussiness” Hingston works to describe how technology has changed the values society has towards death and decay writing about how technology has changed funerals and societies view them.

My mom kept saying "I have got to go see Fran. I need to see with my brother" My mom ran down stairs to get ready to go, I followed her and just stood there, still paralyzed. She hugged me and said that she loved me. I had never seen my mom so panicked. She went into the bathroom to take a shower and I could still hear her sobbing through the door. I was all by myself, now. I was standing in the middle of the family room as the words "He is dead" pierced my heart like daggers of ice. I was screaming OH, GOD NO, and started to cry uncontrollably. The realization that I would never see my uncle again struck me. After I got myself under control I went and packed my things to leave with my mother. As soon as we were done we were on the next flight to New Jersey.

Today was funeral day. My mom’s funeral. It was a dark October thursday, the clouds were brewing a storm. A slight breeze disturbed my neck. My uncomfortable suit sleeves bellowed in the cold breeze.. I hadn’t felt any emotions since the day of her death, which was weeks ago, almost as if my emotion is grey. It was warm then, as my mind was too. Nowadays, up until today, my mind has been a dark fog, as if my mind was released into the sky, darkening everyone’s day, arriving at my mom’s funeral or just to cuddle up with their friends and family in front of a warm crackling fire, telling the stories of their childhood and how times were better. Not me, my dad usually ignored me and he only worked on managing my mom’s fortune. Yeah. My mom’s

He voiced recognition for what I went through in fighting the good fight for Grandmother (and he) for so many years against a system that doesn't provide for their elderly. I am lucky that he was able to express his love, appreciation, and support often and in so many ways. I am blessed that in all the years before I became their caretaker I was able enjoy the best of everthing important in life through love, kindness, encouragement and support. I miss his physical presence and friendship more than I can put into words and I am angry beyond words. Selfishly, I admit that my anger-- though an important part of grieving-- has kept me isolated from people, both in the physical and social netorking worlds. I completely understand that the hardest things we deal with in life...we deal with alone. I get it. However, I can still honestly state that many unneccessary actions on the part of a few have made an already difficult situation much harder. It has taken me time to work through and deal with the reality of the situation. I have far

I had just finished my basketball practice. I was feeling ecstatic because I was making baskets left and right like Kobe Bryant. My coach even told me that he has never seen me play like that before. Then I strutted outside and found my father parked outside the school in his large, brown pick-up truck. I hopped inside and turned my seat heater to high because it was frigid, winter weather outside. My dad made some casual small talk, then he gave me the news. He stated in a low, dull voice, “Hey Jack, grandma past away today.”

Things are tense, somehow through the whole school, like they 've ripped off some sort of band-aid. Veronica remembered the last time it was like this; this bad. Detention had only been the beginning of conflict, and it made Veronica think about Lilly. Losing her best friend had been the hardest thing in the world, but she thinks about the funeral, sad and tragic, but really the eye of that storm. The funeral had been civil, had been touching, had been sweet at times. Lilly may have been the top of the Neptune social ladder, but everybody ten pegs below couldn 't help but adore from afar. There 'd been kids at the funeral she 'd never seen in her classes, and Veronica tried not to think about that now, where the student population had

now. The only thing I can do now is pray and hope. To pray that I will

I clearly remember the day I found out about my granddad's passing. I was at school. It was a normal, joyful day. My dad was planning on picking me up, but instead my friend's mom picked me up. He would not tell me why, but I did not think much of it. I remember the car ride to my house. My friend's mom would not tell me why she was driving me home; all she told me was, "Just know, Ryan, that we will be here for you no matter

"A parent should never have to bury a child," my father-in-law told me as we 'd walked arm and arm to the car that day and I agreed. He told me it doesn 't matter how old your children get, they 're always your children, something I 'd already discovered with my kids. I couldn 't imagine going through his pain or losing a child the way he had months earlier when PB died in the hospital from sepsis.