Narrative Essay About My Great Grandmother

My great-grandmother was raised by her mom, dad, and other relatives. She, and many cousins, were raised up as brother and sister in a close-knit family. Harriett Marshall, my great-grandmother, was born in Saltillo, Tennessee on January 7, 1931. She has lived through many trying times. It is a blessing to live through so many events that changed the nation, even the world. She has lived through the following events and many more: The Great Depression, World War II, the historic signing of Jackie Robinson, Brown v. Board of Education, the Civil Rights movement and many more.

Family history is very important to me. It teaches me about my ancestors, family background, culture, heritage, and generations of traditions. By knowing where I came from, helps me have a better perspective of my life. Having a clear understanding on my family background allows me to know how deep my family’s roots are, and it brings me closer to self discovery.

My grandmother, Joan Stackhouse, has been the most influential woman in my life. She was born in the late 1930s and raised during the time where African Americans didn’t have many rights. She told me about a time where all she could do is clean houses to earn a couple cent to support the family. Her husband worked as a policeman and was barely home. When an educational opportunity became available she took advantage of it and began taking classes at Francis Marion University to later become a teacher’s aid. Today at almost 80 she’s battling Rheumatoid Arthritis, fibromyalgia, and a couple other things that comes with old age. But she remains strong. my grandmother has influenced me to remain strong regardless of the situation and has taught

“As much as I know you dislike visiting Grandma’s grave, tomorrow marks the tenth year of her passing. I want you to take this bouquet of flowers to her grave. Just a reminder, take the footpath through the city and not the shortcut through the alleyway!”, replied mother. Mother had always warned Rydie of the dangers that lurked within the alleyway. The kidnappings and killings that have caused mystery throughout the town.

So i spent the night at my grandma and grandpas and in the morning we all woke up in the morning we all got in the van and all the kids including me took nap in back and when we got there we had to put camper up and take boat to ramp to get it to the campsite

It all began when I was about five years old, having sleepovers in my great grandma’s room. She loved telling stories and playing dress up with me. In her room she kept a lot of pillows on her bed. She had fancy pillows in a variety of sizes, shapes, colors, and textures. Every time I entered her room, she would allow me to jump around on the bed filled with pillows. All that jumping around and having all that fun felt amazing, and that's when I fell in love with one of her pillows and named it Bobby.

I remember it like it was yesterday, even though I was only three. We were all at home;

On the first day of eleventh grade It was just another sunny morning Until the phone started ringing And it was hard to believe what I was hearing How was it even possible that grandma was no more? My world shattered into a million pieces,

“When I was alive, everything my grandmother did was bad. But an odd thing happened when she arrived in her rented limo that day, opened up out house, and braged in. She was, in all her obnoxious finery, dragging the light back in.” (100) It was the day of my memorial and my Grandma Lynn had came a few days before it. My grandma is the queen of fashion so she made sure everyone in my family was going to look their absolute best for my memorial. I love my family so much, that it just brings me pain to have to see them so depressed. I am glad that my grandma can bring some light back into their dark world. I just want them to know that I am with them always, even though they can not see me. I am happy that my grandma was able to lighten up the

After roasting marshmallows, the sticky sweet on my sons' fingers, my father stares into the coals, starts talking about his mother, my grandmother, my sons' great-grandmother. He tells of how she fought her death to the end, even under the morphine drip. Nonverbal tantrums on her bed.

The hushed quiet was deafening the house. I come from a family of four, noise always echoing through the walls, peace never being near. Normally, such lack of noise would be welcoming; but today it was earth-shattering. The minivan was packed faster than you could blink, voices raised tempers flared. A peaceful Tuesday was gone.

Over 300 people lined up at the door of an oratory waiting to pay their respects. Regardless if they knew my grandpa or not it’s as if people felt some sort of obligation, like it’s the right thing to do to mourn over the loss of someone they may or may not have known. It was late January in the small town of Hastey, Minnesota, the ground was as frozen as the hearts of those mourning over the loss of my grandpa. When I found out my grandpa had passed away the piercing feeling in my gut was as harsh as the morbid,Minnesota winter.Majority of people there were nicely dressed in black, with black under their eyes as an accent because nothing but tears have seen those eyes in days.

It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.