My Life Of A Hero : My Hero

One day she talked to me about her pass. She said when she was youth she had a puppy and 2years later the dog was died. She’s devastated and don’t know how to deal with it until a day she found out she has terminal ill.

A hero can teach many life lessons, morals and various other things. A hero is someone who can be seen as a role model or hope to people. A view of a hero is different to everyone. A hero can save someone from a fire, they can be there to give support or even enlighten people. My heroes may differ from another person writing this same paper. The title hero is given to people for multiple reasons.

When my grandma was 58 years old she went for a routine mammogram, while getting that done they found a lump in one of her breasts. She went in soon after finding the lump for a biopsy. Unfortunately the lump came back cancerous. For me and my family it was a very scary time. But for my grandma, she stayed very positive and optimistic, which made me a little hopeful.

My grandma Linda was her only daughter. I spent weeks at Ma’s house in Holstein, Iowa. Christmas for the Grell’s was always hosted at Ma’s house. When I was young she would take me swimming at the communities pool, and ice cream afterwards. Ma’ was an expert cook, her favorite summer dish was fried chicken. She was nearly famous for that fried chicken. In September of 2012 Doctors discovered a tumor in Ma’s liver. Ma’s children paid for an assisted living home in Sioux City, Iowa. She pasted away March 21, 2013. Leading up to March the relationship between my mother and her parents decrepitated. My grandparents refused to come to my high school graduation.

She has gone through some rough times in her life, with getting Breast Cancer. She was diagnosed in November of 1989, and had a mastectomy on January of 1990. She made a full recovery and has been breast cancer free ever since. My grandmother is the most amazing woman I have ever known. When I need advice about anything she is my go to lady, she will tell you the truth and she will not hold back. She is so funny, smart, straight forward, kind, and I would not be the woman I am today without her amazing

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.

She lost her leg, has had two major heart attacks, and a stroke. Around that time the doctors instructed her to start saying her goodbyes. Her heart was going into congestive heart failure, and was pumping only 20 percent of the oxygen that it needed to be. Then I met Jesus. At youth one night, I received Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior. Over the month's I took care of my mother and the household. I slowly started praying for her, and to find out her heart was regaining function. The doctors were in total awe at her recovery. She was able to see me walk across the stage, and get my diploma. As I grew up, I learned, everything that happened to me in my childhood served me a great purpose. Even though I still act childish from time to time, and have a lot of room to mature, I believe it was my childhood that makes me the man I am today. As I graduated I had somehow was blessed with a second family over time. As I got involved in church and they became my second family. The worship leader is my father figure and his son is like my brother. Mr. Johniee (my father figure) has adopted Ruben and I. He treats us like his sons. We are sort of a trio known all of

She had had her surgeries, making me feel helpless I couldn´t do anything. The fall months had came and this it when it hit me harder. She had begun to lose her hair and become weak from the intenseness of the chemotherapy. As a fifteen year old sophomore, it´s hard to overcome this negativity and adversity. Seeing someone you love and especially someone who has been there your whole life go through this kind of pain is not a sight you want to see; this makes you want to shut down, not do well in school, sports, and your soical life. All you want to do is make your loved one better and when you can´t it can be very defeating. In the months following my mom had always reasured me, seeing the women I look up to most fight this made me want to fight adversity just as hard. It gave me hope to see my mom in the stands during those cold football games, seeing her cheer me on even though it may have hurt. Then it gave me hope to see my mom there when I had won indoor state in track, breaking records and making my name, in the spring months. It gave me hope when when my mom had finished her chemotherapy and radiation and started to regrow her hair. It gave me such reassurance and a more positive attitude that even though she may not feel one-hundred percent she still acted like she did to support her kids and show the most unconditional love. She´s

She was at a hospital quite close to her home in Englewood, I can’t recall the exact hospital she stayed at, with its white floors, white walls, and white beds. Such a plain hospital room can hold so many stories from so many different people. Each time we would drive to the hospital, walk into her room, and see her, I was so scared that she would be worse than the visit before. When we didn’t visit grandma and grandpa in the hospital, I would think of her all the time. I was always so worried that there was a possibility that she wouldn’t make it because cancer doesn’t care who you are, your story, or your family history, it will pick whoever it wants and doesn’t

It was the end of the weekend. Her dad had been drinking a lot, so she decided to leave for the night with her friends. When she came back on Monday at dawn, he was sitting on her bed waiting for her daughter to enter the room and gave her a lesson that she would never forget. The next day she decided without telling anyone but her mother to leave the house and never come back, not until my grandfather would still be a part of this world. Weeks later, she

When she was 11 years old, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Her family, being the incredibly supportive and posstive family I know, kept her in high spirits throughout the entire process. " When I was in the hospital, I remember being surrounded by friends and family. We would have "P" parties where everything had to start with a P. We would wear pajamas, eat Penne a la vodka, pizza, watch movies that started with the letter P, and just have a great time. Everyone would squish into my little hospital room and enjoy each other's company. I feel really blessed to have family and friends that are so incredibly

She was not a mother that supported me getting close with a patient; definitely one who she knew was not in good health. I remember Google-ing everything about COPD. Everything that I found made me cry. Nothing in this world could save Franklin. I was scared for him. I did not understand why he was not scared. I did not understand why his parents were not there to hold his hand through his last days. I had so many questions for him that he seemed like he did not even care to flinch at. He talked to me about where he would be going when he died. The easiness he had in his heart about being okay was something I never knew someone could have. He knew what was wrong with him. He knew he was fixing to die soon. He made sure that was not going to effect his last days. His last days lasted for eighteen more months after that summer. There was not a day that went by that I thought I would never meet a guy like Franklin again. He showed me in his final days that life was not by how you define it; it is how your life defines

. I got to see her after ready and we asked her and grandpa to pack and get ready to come tot United States so she could be treated in the U.S. I got to see her after she arrived, her skin was yellow. Her face looked very sad, and as soon as she saw me, she cried so I ran into her and hugged her. We took her to a hospital that was near our house. The doctor ran some tests on her and then came out. The doctor looked at me and said: “can you come outside with me for a second”? “Okay sure”. I responded.

When I was young, my father and I would always spend the summer on the glistening white sand of the beach at the end of the road. We would splash knee-deep in the cold waves, kicking the water so that droplets of water sparkled like crystals in underneath the warm sun. We would lay on our backs and admire the sky and watch the clouds swirl into marvellous shapes. We would build sandcastles that had moats and bridges and imaginary soldiers that would spar with thrusting swords and swinging shields. These picturesque days went on and on. They were a constant cycle of deep blue skies, imprinted on my mind. My oldest memories are all full of my father in these moments, as he played in the warm sand and stretched out his frown lines. Now, as I stand on the very same beach, moving my toes in the same warm sand, fifteen years on, I can’t help but miss it. Miss him. I can’t help but miss him regardless of the pain he injected into himself and everyone else who cared about him in the years leading up to him leaving.

There are many, many wonderful memories that my grandmother and I shared. If one were to tell you them all this would be a couple hundred pages long. Thankfully, no one is going to do that. Though, many were fun and happy, not all of them were. Some, however, contained my grandmother being sick. As a child, you probably didn’t like seeing somebody else sick. Sure enough, I didn’t. Not at all. From my own experiences, when you are sick, it feels like you will never get better, but you do. My grandmother seemed to always be sick. She confessed that she got used to it, being in a wheelchair, yet somehow, I never did. There was one thing about her that always, inspired me. She was a fighter. She could be one fire, but she would still be smiling.