My Great Grandfather

“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

On January 5, 2009 my father pasted away. He and I did not have the typical father-son relationship; we did not have a relationship at all. I presumed that it would have a little if any affect on me. However, as the semester continued, it seemed to get worse. Besides my father’s passing, several weeks later my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. It was difficult for me to deal with, but it was more difficult for my mother to handle.

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

No one that I’d loved so dearly had ever died. The whirlwind experience of waiting for my parents to come home, watching my parents, aunts, and uncles plan a funeral, and then missing school for both the wake and the funeral was exhausting. The jam-packed schedule did not give me time to contemplate and understand what had happened. In fact, those first few days after my grandfather's death were the easiest as they were a distraction from the truth. Attend a wake, accept condolences, attend a funeral, accept more condolences, and then go home being too exhausted to have any further thoughts than “I want to go to bed”. It was the calm after the storm that hurt me in the long

These years later felt like centuries of what if’s and should have dones. The first time Father had ever cried in front of me, or anyone. The dimly lit dining room where I first heard the news will forever be dark, gloomy, and heavy. I ran into my room because I needed him to be strong, but I knew he couldn’t be. He was affected in a way a still don’t understand.

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.

FOCUS OF PRESENT SESSION: This session focused on the youth expressing her emotions related to loss of her grandfather. The client was asked to describe her relationship she had with her grandfather and how his death impacted her. She noted that they had a “great” relationship, she stated that he was like a father figure to her. She reported that he taught her how men are supposed to treat women by a positive example for her. Additionally, she shared that he gave her motivation to excel, both academically and and as an individual. She noted that after his death, nothing had matter anymore because, someone so good was taken away from her.

My great grandparents mean the world to me and it was very hard for me when they started to become sick. They have inspired me to be the best I can be and to never give up. They were very nice and awesome people, a lot of people looked up to them, including me. They lived in Indiana which meant I didn’t get to see them a lot but when I did it was the best times of my childhood. When we would go over there, my cousins, my brother, and I would play with the stuffed animals they had and we would hang out with family. One of my favorite memories of going down to visit was going to see the campus of Notre Dame. My grandparents have created a name for the Berges family there and now since they both died, Notre Dame is one of the only places I have left of them. Without knowing my great grandparents I don’t know who I would be today.

Both my parents burst through the doors, looking slightly concerned. “Mehak, why are you screaming?” My mom questioned. My eyes started to get watery, thinking of all the terrible possibilities, and I got a feeling in my gut that something was wrong. “Grandpa... H-he...w-were t-talking a-and h-he started c-coughing a-and the l-line w-went d-dead.” I stuttered, not knowing what to think. My dad flew out of the room, probably to contact my grandma about what was going on.

My Great-Great Grandmother, Etta Kate Deloach Haskins, lived through some of America's greatest historical events from 1913- 2000. She was born before the beginning of the First World War, and grew up seeing women grow openly, publicly, and unashamedly independent. She witnessed the Great Depression of the 1930s and World War II first hand as a young adult, while marrying and raising a family. My Great- Great Grandmother saw the assassination of a president while her only grandchild was a teenager. Mrs. Haskins experienced life during the Korean War and Vietnam War while her grandson was getting married, making her a Great- Grandmother. Mrs. Etta Kate Deloach Haskins was alive through a few of the moments that the shaped the U.S. into the country that we live in today. (Gale)

Most children ponder the thought of what life would be like without their parents. They imagine how amazing and fun a life filled with jokes and no rules would be. Not even having to go to school if you did not want to. Except this is not how life works. When a parent dies and the reality sets in, it quickly shows us that life is not all fun and games. The death of a parent is a devastating reality for any young child to bare. This abrupt reality may have long lasting effects as each child has their own unique way of perceiving life’s events. In the blink of an eye ones world may be completely twisted around. This kind of tragedy has the ability to shape a child in both negative and positive ways. They are now faced with the task of

It was a Saturday, and it was my mom’s turn to take care of my nine-year-old brother and ten-year-old me for the weekend. My parents lived separately, and we had to live with my mom most of the time. Even so, I tried to contact my dad as often as I could. He was the parent whom I had a stronger connection with. He always did his best to express his care and love toward my brother and me. However, my dad didn’t answer me this time. I sat on the couch and waited in case he would return my call. I glanced around our dull, brown living room waiting, swinging my feet back and forth. Just waiting.

“I’ll be right over.” My mom’s voice wavered as she spoke these words. She hung up the phone. When she turned our way I saw concern written all over her face and worry. She walked over to my father. His brow was creased as if to say, “What’s going on?” After a hurried whispered conversation she left. Right away I could tell something was wrong.

My grandma is retired from her secretarial job. Twice a month she visits with her older sister in the country to make certain that she is being taken care of proprly. It is during these frequent trips that I realize how much she is a part of my everyday life. My grandma lives downstairs from me. From the inside of our house, there is no stairs connecting the top and bottom floors. If I want to go downstairs, I have to use the outside stairs. I wear these flat slippers that make a tapping sound when I walk on the wooden stairs and whenever it is quiet, my grandma can hear me coming and going. When I reach the bottom of the stairs on my way out, she is always standing at her door waiting for me. As we walk to my car every morning, she

I remember the day my grandmas passed away. Eleven years ago, I was seating with my grandma in the stair case of our house. She was telling me a poem called "el trencito de madera" which was my favorite story. If you had seen me You would know I would never leave her side. But everything went dark for me the moment I knew she was gone it was the hardest day but she will always have a place in my heart. It all began on a Tuesday morning. My grandma was known by many people in our neighborhood everybody used to think of her as a mom so we would go out with chairs and just sit in the front of the house just watching everyone pass by and wave. My grandma was one of the people who had to take medicine because she was sick and even some time we would have to take her to the hospital and stay overnight because of her illness. But that day she felt worse than any other time she had to take medication, but she didn’t tell no one because she hated the hospitals.