Joe Rantz: The Most Significant Events In My Life

When you think of losing a grandparent in your life, you think of them passing away. You dread the day you will get the call that they are sick. You then begin to cherish all the moments you have with them leading up to their passing. You have time to except their sickness, and come to terms with the outcome that is to come. My PopPop is not here anymore, but do not get confused, for he is alive. I did not have warning. I did not have time to cherish him. I did not have time to say goodbye. My PopPop was on no medication, which was almost uncanny for a 75-year-old. Trying to encompass everything he was boils down to a few things that may not seem like much to someone who didn’t know him. He went on a walk every night after dinner, and would whistle the same tune when he was happy. He played the same little ditty on the piano every time we were all in the living room. He was a simple man who could not harm a fly, and a good man. Unlike the grandchild warned when they are going to lose a grandparent, I did not have this notice. I did not have time to go on one last walk with him, and I did not have time to record him on the piano. I did not have time to replicate his whistling song, or to spend time with the man I knew. My PopPop was the heathiest man I knew, but then he got depression. First slowly, then all at once. The man I knew had slipped from my fingers without any chance to hold on tighter.

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 went to my living room to ask my mom a question, to see she wasn’t there. I asked my brother “where’s mom?” and he replied with “shes at the hospital, grandpa got burnt.” I would never have expected “grandpa got burnt” to be as severe as it was. I remember my mom coming home around two in the morning. I got up and out of bed to ask some questions. She said “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Pack some stuff up, we’re going to Waterloo tomorrow.” So I listened and packed up a bag.

The reading made me think of how homesick I feel, and not having my mom in the same place as me. It makes me think of the times my mother would come into my room in the mornings to get me up for school, because of how important it is to her and my father that I get an education and make something of myself. Everyone has hopes and dreams, but not many get to follow through with them, because sometimes life just gets in the way. I feel this is why our parents or elders do what they can to help us be better people for ourselves and others, while striving to accomplish our dreams.

“The tragedy...is in enteral stasis,” Marina Keegan says in her short essay Cold Pastoral. Her words vaguely foreshadow the essay’s main character,, Claire’s, emotions throughout the events of the story. Claire deals with the loss of her lover Brian while preparing for his vigil at the University of Vermont. She experiences self-consciousness, jealousy, and anger as she tries to cope with grief. These coping mechanisms result in a mentally draining week and can be used as a warning against those experiencing grief themselves.

“I don’t feel so well” Jan’s father had suddenly said one morning at breakfast. Her father, a World War II veteran, stood up and went to go lie down. The rest of the family continued with their day. Michael went to see how his father was. When he tried to wake him his father didn’t respond or make a sound. The 11 year old boy was the one who first knew that his father was gone. The memory of her father’s loss is vivid in Jan’s mind. It was a substantial shock after he had survived the horrors of World War II and then just passed away quietly at home one morning. Jan now understands how

He felt like his heart just fell out of his body and shattered into millions of pieces because maybe that was the last time he was going to see his mother. The fact that it was barely the beginning of summer ,so basically he lived without his mother for 2 months. Him ,and his older brother had to step up and take care of their younger sisters. Meanwhile his father would worked 11 hours or even up to 13 hours for five days a week and only getting paid $375 dollars per week. From seven in the morning all the way till six he would work. Everyday he comes home tired and sore from work. He works in construction; he basically puts the roofing on the houses which can be really exhausting. With the summer heat reaching up to hundred degrees everyday. They all faced adversity ,but all they could do was pray for their mother and begging for her to come back home safe. This occurred a couple years ago ,but Jose was still young and he couldn’t really understand what was going on. All he would see his older brother crying with my father ,and all i could do was to make sure my younger sisters wouldn’t see them. Eventually on August 13, 2016, one morning as Jose woke up, a black truck pulled up to his house and once the back door opened, the moment he saw his mother he bursted out of tears of

Before Ms. Taylor died, she was battling cancer, high blood pressure, and a diabetes which caused her husband’s life to be taken by stress. When I was taking care of her, she had only two children, both girls, and one grandson. I did not get the pleasure to meet her husband because he passed 10 years before had gotten sick. I knew she was depressed about her husband’s death, in which she almost gave up on living, but once I came along, I was able to give her that spark that she needed so desperately to keep living. Her daughters had lives of their own. One was a successful teacher, and the other was an executive manager of a company in North Dakota. The only grandson, who she felt had so many options in life, did not know which academic career path to follow

It’s been six months since her husband Samuel died. It’s been hell since the day she found out. Like being pulled into a black hole. The moment those words left the man’s lips, she started falling into a black hole. When she made the funeral plans. When she packed all her belongings and all her son’s belongings into boxes and moved from California to a small town called Collinston. She just fell deeper and deeper. She isn’t the only one who has suffered from this loss. Her son William is 7 years old and will not talk to anyone other than his mother ever since the event of his father’s death.

The last time I read Will’s tale was in 2013 when my grandfather suddenly passed away. I remember the feeling of grief and for some time I didn’t know how to deal with the loss since it was my first experience with death. I remember sitting at my kitchen table. Dad had picked me up from school that day, which was an odd occurrence since that duty usually belonged to my mom. When we pulled into the garage, Mom wasn’t home yet. Her not being home was odd, especially since she was always home by 4:30 and it was nearing 5:00. It wasn't until we reached the top of the steps and had sat down to eat when Dad

In reading this book it triggered a memory from over ten years ago. In 2001, I lost my great-grandmother to heart related issues. For me her death went farther than just losing a relative. As far back as I can remember my great-grandmother was a part of my daily life. My mother had me when she was still in high school so naturally she still lived at home. My father was nonexistent in

When I read “Once More to the Lake” by E. B. White, I was jealous of the father and son’s close relationship as it reminded me of my grandmother and mother’s close relationship. When I was younger I always loved hearing stories about my mother’s childhood because i didn’t feel close to her due to her job. She would often tell me stories about her mother, my Lola, who had died a month before I was born. They were best friends, and my mother would tell her everything. At first they were nice to hear, but as I grew up the memory of the stories became a burden, a constant reminder of my inability to share my feelings, thoughts, opinions, and experiences with my mother. It made me feel guilty that I could not give her the relationship she had with

Warily, I walked over to where my father was standing right outside the school, waiting for Cole and I, when I saw he had shades on, I knew for sure that something was wrong, due to the fact he never wore shades. When we were to the pick-up my whole family was in there. Noticing, when I jumped in the pick-up, my mother also had shades on. Anxiously, I sat there attentively for the longest second of my life, then my father stammered to us that grandfather had passed away. Countless emotions were running through me, overwhelmed; I didn’t know what to think, raving; owing to they said he was going to be adequate, grieving; due to I didn’t get to talk t6o my grandfather before he passed

As I read pages 36- 37 I gained an understanding of trouble life it from a young age . First is Joe's first to was removed from his father's home.As he had to chop wood while still in the sense of abandonment from his father and his close friend therefore help me gain a better view of struggles in his l . Also,how struggle in life can help groom someone for their future or another purpose, just like how joe chopping wood increased his strength. Furthermore Joe Rantz life gives me an understanding of people in the world who don't work to be great,but to work gain or survive as in the manual labor for only shelter and minimal foods .

The phone rang again. Hoping for good news, yet again I was disappointed. It was my mom; she said she was following our pastor to my grandmother’s house. She said, “We are going to tell Grandma he’s gone”. I knew this would be one of the hardest things to do; it was her birthday after all. The three of us jumped in the car. We drove up to Grandma’s house. I remember Tosha running into the house and falling into her arms. Everyone tried to pull themselves together, but how could this be? This had never happened to us before. The wheel was broken.