My Favorite Memories Essay

In the novel “W, or the memory of childhood” written by Georges Perec, we see the story of a Jewish child that lived through his childhood during World War 2 and the time of the Holocaust which was a depressing time for Jewish people. This is an autobiographical novel which uses alternating chapters to help better describe his journey through this depressing time as a child, with trauma comes emotional and psychological harm which causes you to do whatever it takes to numb the pain, whether it is to find the source of the pain or to submerge them deep inside your heart to forget it. In this case, Perec used alternating chapters

As the United States slipped into the Great Depression in the early 1930s, President Hoover's most generous response was to lend government funds to__________________

My grandfather's dementia had gotten worse with age. He had developed a habit of walking out of the house randomly. They lived alone in their apartment in Pakistan. One day he walked out the same way and did not return for a long time. We were later informed that he had tripped on his way and broke his hip. After surgery my grandmother called me, I was living abroad at that time, and said, "I don't think he will recover, he is in a lot of pain" I assured her otherwise. She said, "I can't live without him. I don’t want him to die." The helplessness and grief in her voice was agonizing. She would often call and cry, it became tough overtime as I was abroad and not fully aware of his progress. I am her oldest grandchild, and she treats me like

My Great Grandma was my best friend, I’m not sure how else to describe our relationship. She was someone I looked up to and hoped to be like when I grew up. She taught me a lot about life and how crazy it can be. Whenever I have tough days I replay her encouraging words in my head. Towards the end of February of 2013, my family received a call from my Great Grandpa to inform us that my Great Grandma was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. We found this out only a few weeks before we were supposed to head down to Arizona to visit them for spring break. Our family didn’t know how severe it was going down there, we came to find out she was genuinely unhealthy. She didn’t want to leave her room, she didn’t want to complete simple tasks, she would tell

Five years ago in 2012 my Aunt Mary died from cancer. Cancer had consumed her whole body. It started in her liver and spread to different organs and even reached her brain. When she found out she had cancer she was told she only had a few months to live. I had just seen her on a trip we had before we found out she had cancer and that was the last time I saw her.

In October of 2016, my grandma passed away from a hard battle with cancer. My grandma was my rock, the person who always pushed me to be better, the person who was always encouraging me to keep going, and the person who inspired me the most. During the battle, I experienced a lot of adversity. Whether it was school or cross country meets, that feeling never seemed to go away.

In September of my junior year of high school, my mom told me for the third time that she had cancer. She had spent the entire summer coughing. It was a bad summer cold or maybe a stubborn case of bronchitis. No one could seem to figure out what was causing the cough. A late summer bronchoscopy finally solved the case. It was cancer. Calmly, she reassured me on that September day, “It’s an early stage cancer. They say it’s very treatable. We’ve been down this road before.” The next nine months was a road that no one in my family had traveled. Frequent doctor visits, chemotherapy treatments, and hospitalizations became our new normal. We painstakingly watched as each round of chemo treatments devastated and weakened her. Through everything, my mom was resilient, tough, and determined to live.

Back in 2010 the matriarch of my family, which would be my granny, was diagnosed with the terrible disease we call CANCER! No one in my family expected anything like this to happen, especially to her. But then again, who does expect this to happen to someone close to them? I do not believe for a second that anyone in this world is mentally, physically, nor emotionally prepared to be struck with this type of news about someone they love and care for. I know that myself nor my family were prepared to be told the devastating news.

I knew my grandma would be different, after being diagnosed with severe alzheimer's disease, I never knew it would take her over like it did, I remember when my mom tried to explain her disease to me, being almost nine years old, it didn’t seem like a big deal, I remember thinking how sad it would be to forget things, I always wondered if she would be able to dream, ski, make christmas dinner, or feel the same things she could before, I just hoped that she didn’t let a disease define who she was.

After a while of sitting in my grandparents living room mindlessly playing with my toys I decided to get up. I walked towards the commotion going on in the small hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen. The gathering of people consisted of my mom, dad, grandpa, and grandma. Curious about what was going on I walked over to the group. I reached my mom and looked up to see that her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. I looked over to my dad and his face, like everyone else's, was grim. During this time I kept hearing one repeating word, cancer. I started to listen more closely to the conversation going on around me because even at the age of seven I knew that cancer was bad news. I listened intently and heard my mom explain how she had colon cancer.

On a chilly Saturday afternoon around the end February, I arrived home from my grandparents only to find that my great aunt, who lives in Washington State, had taken my great grandmother to the emergency room because she couldn't walk. My aunt was up here visiting at the time. My great grandmother was in the local hospital for a few days before they shipped her to Maine Medical Center in Portland, where they proceeded to diagnose her with breast cancer and lymphoma. The breast cancer had a tumor that was against her spine, so she couldn't walk. This was her third time being diagnosed with cancer. The round that did her in.

Memory is defined as "the persistence of learning over time through the storage and retrieval of information." Our memory can be compared to a computer's information processing system. To remember an event we need to get information into our brain which is encoding, store the information and then be able to retrieve it. The three-stage processing model of Richard Atkinson and Richard Shiffrin suggests that we record information that we want to remember first as a fleeting sensory memory and then it is processed into a short term memory bin where we encode it ( pay attention to encode important or novel stimuli) for long-term memory and later retrieval. The premise for the three step process is that we are unable to focus on too much

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.

When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains.

My earliest memory I remember as a child is around the age of two years old. My Mother would put me in the playpen but I refused to stay. I was able to climb out of it. I remembered my Mother’s face expression that let me know that I better not climb out of the playpen again. This was one of my earliest memories of her setting her boundaries. When I got older, my Mother told me about the situation. She needed to clean and/or cook so she had to put me in the playpen. At the age of two years old, I just wanted to explore and didn’t want to stay in the playpen. This set the tone between us moving forward.