Grandma's Funeral-Personal Narrative

That day when I returned home from school, my mom’s boyfriend called me asking to speak to my grandmother. Typically, Gus would call my grandmother himself if he wanted to speak with her, which was rare. I found out about my mom going to the hospital from my grandmother after that phone call. The doctor told my family that a stroke afflicted her in the middle of the day. My mom confused the date with her birthday, had trouble getting words out and remembering our family member’s names. The nurse had to take her for walks periodically and exercise her legs and arms because they were weak. Seeing my mother in this condition made me appreciate my mother and everything she does for me tremendously. However, I was terrified for my mother’s health.

Remember when I was 7, because I do. I remember how when I asked you if Dad would be okay, you said to not worry because he would be fine. You lied. He’s now six feet underground with your name written in red on his coffin. Dirt lines my memories of how when he got lowered into the ground you didn’t cry, you stood looking at the man that helped plan the funeral. Not even five seconds after Father was gone, were you looking for your next victim. I will not help you anymore, the business will not be passed down to me and I will not participate in the same game that killed Dad.

At 4:30 am, my alarm went off; I was more tired than ever. I rolled over stepping onto the wood floor. I walked to the bathroom feeling as if I could collapse and fall back into my deep sleep. After my shower, I went back into the snug, little room I was calling home for the time being at my grandparent’s house. I was at my grandparents house due to the fact that my dad and Stacy were already in the Dominican Republic. I packed my last few belongings and crawled back into the bed to fall asleep for a few minutes. I assumed that ten minutes had passed when I remember hearing my grandparents talking about how we had to leave soon. My grandma came in asking us what we had wanted for breakfast. Mickenzie and I told her we weren’t hungry and got out of the warm cozy bed to get in the car. After changing, we went out to the kitchen to say bye to our grandma, seeing that there wasn’t room for her in the car. She gave us a huge, tight bear hug telling us to be safe.

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

The leather feels cold under my fingertips as I sit on our living room couch. My feet are propped up on the small coffee table, banging together lightly in boredom. Mom sits with me, our shoulders barely touching. It's only been twelve hours since I found Laura in the alley and the police already want to put us into protective custody. I don't want to go, but there is nothing tying me here anymore. Laura's gone.

At last, we arrived at the bay where my grandma laid. My body froze. I had no idea on how to approach her. I slowly walked in as my dad said, “Here comes the birthday girl.” I could only smile. Grandma looked back at me even when her mind wasn’t completely there. I felt so much pain just seeing her lay there. My heart ached for her. She could hear us, but couldn’t talk back. My cold hand grasped on tight to her warm hand. I didn’t want to let go. My

When I saw my aunt and uncle walk into the waiting room, fresh tear stains streaked upon their cheeks, I knew. When my uncle opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out but a child like squeal, my heart was torn in half. When someone finally said the words ‘she’s gone’ to the family members that had just arrived, getting my extremities cut off of my body one by one would have most certainly hurt less. I shut down and sat in that too clean smelling hospital room, little by little people began to say their good-byes to each other and leave, while I just sat. My grandpa walked in and I looked up at the red neon clock on the wall to see that a hour had passed. Without saying a word, he motioned and walked with me out of the room to the end of the hallway where my sister and cousin were sitting. The corner where the four of us sat, you could look out the windows into a sea of city

My second interviewee is a female that is a member of the church. Ms. Gleaton was born and reared in Columbia, South. She is an active church member, that sings on the church choir. Ms. Gleaton is also works in a facility that care for the elderly. She is a licensed practical nurse (LPN). Ms. Gleaton reports, she has four siblings, and she is a proud mother of a daughter and two grandchildren. Ms. Gleaton, daughter lives in Virginia with her spouse, and Ms. Gleaton likes to visit them frequently.

Heaven received another beautiful angel today. She's honestly the strongest woman I know and I look up to her greatly if I even have an ounce of her strength I know I'll be just fine. That you for all you have done for me I will miss you like crazy but I know in my heart you are in a better place. I love you Grandma

Everything began when mum died. She wasn’t sick or had any terminal disease, she was in a terrible car crash. Whilst driving through an intersection a drunk driver decided he would go through during a red light. He crashed into the driver’s side of the car, where mum was. I got out of the crash with just a broken arm, mum didn’t. At first I thought she was just unconscious but as I took a proper look at her, I realised that wasn’t the case. She died on impact. I was rushed to the hospital, only to come out with a pathetic cast on my right arm. The paramedics looked at mum and with one look they could tell that she was already gone.

Meet Michael. He is JustOne year old. With a smile that will melt your heart, a laugh that will make you chuckle, and a contagious energy about him, it was an honor for me, his mother, to celebrate his special day this past December. While I understand that, to some, a first birthday is just another day. To our family, this was a day of reflection, a day of celebration, and a day of immense joy. Let me explain why… I remember it like it was yesterday. We were moving to Nebraska and we decided to buy a house. As soon as I shared the news of our purchase, without hesitation, all of my friends said, “you know what they say…new house, new baby!” At the time, I giggled and thought they were crazy! We already had two daughters, ages four and two, and our lives were finally finding a sense of rhythm. Moving into this new house would only further solidify our routines. As we began moving into our house, I began taking naps. Daily. That is normal, right? Think about it. All of the rearranging of furniture, unpacking,

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

It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she

October 10th, 2013 at 7:30pm. The day of my grandma death. The day that changed my life forever. The day I will never forget. My grandma was my everything, she was the lady who raised me since I was born. I never had a mother or father, the only person who cared for me was my grandma. The day my grandma died I was in my senior year of high school and I had just came home from cheerleading practice. That was an unusual day for me because when I woke up that morning my grandma wasn't up cooking breakfast like she usually does she was in her bed asleep still. I looked outside and the sun was just rising. I went in her room that morning before I left for school and said these exact words, "Good morning grandma if you’re not feeling well, I could stay home with you and take you to the doctor." In a raspy low voice my grandma replied, "Good morning sweetie I'm okay I was just feeling a little sick this morning but I'm better now. You better get to school now before you are late.” Okay, Grandma Love you, call me if you need me", I replied. On my way to school all I thought about was why my grandma sounded like that this morning and how she wasn't up doing her normal routine. I have never seen my grandma get sick before. She was always the one taking care of me making sure I was okay. But I just pushed the feeling over just thinking my grandma was okay and I was just overthinking. I should've stayed home that day. I should've noticed that my grandma really was sick.

June 11, 2015. It was a regular summer day, or so I thought. Only five days until my fifteenth birthday and I was super excited. My mom had taken the morning off from work to take my grandmother to the doctors. She was going for her regular heart check-up appointment. As we always did, my mother and I drove that morning over to the nursing home in St. Matthews, South Carolina. My mother had recently entered my grandmother into the nursing home because my mom needed to start working more and could not fulfill the obligations of taking care of my grandmother like she normally would. When we got to the nursing home, we parked the car under the awning which was in the front of the nursing and covered a little walkway where people loaded their family members. I got out first and headed back to the room as my mom followed closely behind. When I walked into the room, I saw my sweet loving grandmother sitting there. As always, my beautiful grandmother, with her white hair, her green eyes, her frail but beautiful skin, and her smile glistened as she awaited her day out. My grandmother did not get out much so even going to the doctors was a good day out for her. We helped her into her wheelchair, a normal struggle for my mother and I, and we rolled her down the hallway to the car. We loaded her into the car, another struggle, and we headed off to Orangeburg which was where the doctors office was. While riding to the doctor's office my grandmother mentioned that her hands looked green