My Experience In My Life

However, as time progressed my nana’s once sweet smell became stale and her loving embrace started to weaken. she became a shadow of who she was. Dazed and confused, I struggled to hold onto her once strong presence and witnessed a semblance of the strong warm woman that she personified throughout her life. My mother had warned me of the effects of Alzheimer's, but witnessing the transition of my once vibrant Nana turning into a feeble old woman was something that couldn’t be explained. It was something that no one could prepare me for. It was a perspective that helped me grow into the person I am today.

“I know how hard it is to lose someone,” said Mrs. Navaz, my boss, as I asked for a day off of work. This was just recently when my grandfather had two strokes within a period of two weeks. When she first told me this, I was frozen; I didn’t know how to respond. I gratefully thought back to all the experiences I shared with my grandfather growing up and how he shaped me into the person I am today.

Some point in my young life there were many time I wanted to be older then I already am. I can remember as far back as when I was 13 years old I had many moments when I wish I was already an adult had my own car and house no one to abide to. As I grew up I noticed, I wanted tom be older faster I was tired of annoying teachers telling me they know where my life was heading, I wanted to prove them wrong faster than they could grade my test. I wanted to have my own house and car if it was possible I would drive to middle school. The older, I got I wanted to finish school and start life but I didn’t really know how to do it. All we ever talked about in school was school stuff but no one really told me you need to do this and do that to be successful in life.

The car ride up to the local cemetery in a small town in New Jersey was as silent as the ghost of my great-aunt herself- empty and bleak. I only assumed that everyone around me was clinging onto the past memories we shared with her, feeling the shock of what we could no longer turn the pages of time back to. I could not fully imagine how my dad must have felt that somber day. He would often reminisce about the tender moments he shared with her as a spirited youth with the rest of the family, his voice always springing to life when he spoke of the past. Sitting in the back of the car, I glanced at him in the driver’s seat, peering at his eyes to notice how he seemed to be staring into another place of existence that was left untouchable to the rest of my family.

After sitting down on the porch with coffee in hand, waves of nostalgia washed over me. Staring into my coffee, flashbacks ran through my mind. The old, yellow school bus rocked back and forth over the worn dirt path on its way to the orphanage that would be my home for the following week. The scolding South American sun beated down on the school bus as I began to question why I chose to spend my service requirement here. I tried to imagine the following week which would be wifi less, family-less, and air conditioning less. After a two hour bus ride, my team of 20 people and I arrived at Orphanage Emmanuel. Orientation and assignments filled the following hours until we all climbed onto our plastic mattresses and attempted to get some sleep.

Mom was in her late fourties and suffering from a terminal illness. My family gathered later to talk with hospice workers about how we could make Mom the most comfortable. Her physical needs as she went on from this lifetime were crucial to us, but we were also set on honoring mom's heart before cancer had touched her.

Grandpa’s cancer had gotten so bad that the entire family had gathered around him. Alone, I was sent for help. I was only fourteen and I remember thinking to myself, “God please don’t take him before I get to say goodbye!” I was running so quickly and it was so dark that I tripped and barely caught my balance. Even though we hurried back, he was gone. It was the worst thing that could have happened to me. All I remember is dropping to the ground in a puddle of tears; I didn’t think God would just take him from us like that. I didn’t even get to say goodbye or that I loved him. It was so unfair. He was gone from our lives, but not our hearts. Even so, I felt as though I failed because we didn’t make it back in time.

I walked into the hospice care building with my family excited to see my grandpa, who I hadn’t seen in a couple weeks. The building had a peaceful atmosphere, staffed with caring nurses. They had beautiful flowers planted outside and a kitchen filled with good food. The building had a weird feeling to it though. It had a certain distinct smell to it, similar to a nursing home or hospital. Though, the more I thought about my grandpa being there made me slowly get more and more upset. The last day I saw my grandfather was the day I realized, to be happy in life, I must accept everything that comes my way and make the most out of the life I was given.

Sometimes how a day ends is never how it begins. This was relevant on the day I was told my grandmother died. The news came at the worst time possible. I was spending the day in Delavan Wisconsin at my friend Hannah’s lakehouse tubing and swimming. My mother called with the devastating news, and our vacation came to a sudden close. To hear news that makes the world turn upside down is frightening. It is seldom expected, and traumatic when it occurs. During this, Hannah, our families, and I had spent a long day out on the water, enjoying the break from summer sports when my mother needed to visit my grandmother’s home to check on her. She had Alzheimer’s she lived with us for two years when I was much younger.

As the words gloomily and grievously came off of my mother’s lips, I remained still. I became blanched and feelings of confusion, uneasiness, and lugubriousness embodied me. From that moment on, my life was a whirlwind of emotions, tragedies, and graces that created my everlasting identity. As the disease progressed, my family struggled with simple tasks to keep us on our feet. With the help of community-based organizations and generous families, we were given assistance, which acted as a breath of fresh air. Not only did my mother survive a deadly cancer, I discovered myself in the service provided to me and my family.

As I walked through the door of the funeral home, the floral arrangements blurred into a sea of vivid colors. Wiping away my tears, I headed over to the collage of photographs of my grandfather. His smile seemed to transcend the image on the pictures, and for a moment, I could almost hear his laughter and see his eyes dancing as they tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander……

Accompanied by my homework and usual heartless expression, I trudged into the hospital room for the lung function check-up. “...a miracle” whispered the doctor as his white coat waved in the wind of joy spreading in the room. From my stiff, wooden seat in the corner, I mocked this “petty” rejoicing. The rock in my chest didn’t give way to the news that my father delivered with utmost elation: “Ba is going to live”. My grandmother, with a fresh sparkle in her warm, soulful eyes, embraced me as I drowned in all of the devotion, joy, and contentment in her tender smile that I had missed over the years. Images from my childhood flashed in my mind depicting a naive girl full of exhilaration to bake, sing, and play alongside my grandmother. The warmth of these memories flooded my body and thawed the glacier in my heart as a lush, empathetic soul was unveiled in the arms of my Ba. Through compassion for my grandmother, I had discovered the elegance of

My grandmother has not improved much physically, but mentally, I believe she is content. I am sure I made an impact on her mental well-being. I am so grateful I chose to put my grandmother’s needs before my own this summer. I don’t feel any concerts or summer road trips would have left me with the same satisfaction as knowing I made a difference in the life of someone who has meant so much to me.

On May 29, 2012 my family picked me up from the ballpark, as I had just gotten off work. Our car ride home was typical, as I explained to them the exciting events of tonight 's baseball game. I did not notice the blank expressions on their face, or how quiet my little sister had been for I was to consumed with my own words. As I made my way to my bedroom my mom trailed closely behind, shutting the door behind her. She asked me to have a seat on my bed, that she had something important to tell me. I began rattling off what I thought she might say, she solemnly shook her head each time until I asked “who passed away”. Tears swelled in her eyes as she moved in closer, I was immediately filled with confusion, instinctively I began spouting out names, until she said “you know your friend, Kim?” I instantly stood up, then as if someone had cut the marionette strings holding me up I hit the floor. Unable to make full sense of the situation I let out a piercing scream. As I layed there detached from reality and unable to accept what was already certain, I found myself denying every heart wrenching detail that followed.

Throughout my life, I have made many changes, taken on many challenges, and accomplished many goals. Before now, I have not spent much time or energy examining my motivations, attempting to determine how or why things turned out well, or did not. However, currently I find it necessary to do just that, as I am beginning a new chapter in my life: college. As I move through my first year of college, at the age of fifty-six, I feel I do not have the time to guess at what will lead me toward the best possible outcomes. I need to be clear on what works and what does not. I can think of two important experiences I have had in my adult life, one motivated by intrinsic values, and one by extrinsic factors. An examination of both may give me better understanding of how I can make the most of my education.