Personal Narrative: A Mother's Death?

I spent most of the morning stuck in my thoughts, why was I not grieving my parent's death? Why had I never noticed I was supernatural? Dominating most of my thoughts, did I have feelings for Jordan, my brother's best friend?

Everyone experiences loss, but the difference is our beliefs of where those individuals go when their time is up here. I have experienced losing friends and family from drugs, freak accidents, diseases, and just natural death. I have seen death right in front of my eyes, but somehow I still find something to comfort me. A place where there is only a peace and where there is no more pain, Heaven.

I wait at the door. I put on my solemn, grim face, I cannot let these children see me as a soft women. I am anything but that, well I guess I am, but we all need to hide our inner emotions some how. My useless husband, Hans, mumbles, “I see the car”. We step outside, most people think Hans and I are crazy for opening our home to these two children, but every little bit of money that we can earn helps. Plus, they can help with the laundry, I think and smile.

I remember the day like the back of my hand. The day my own husband took a knife

I somehow knew what my aunt would say to me when I answered the ringing phone in my hand. There was an unexplainable, sickening feeling in my abdomen that told me something was wrong. Hesitating, I frantically tried to think of what else it could be before finally clicking “answer.” The cold surface of my phone pressed up to my ear, and my aunt spoke words that I will never forget.

Today my mom was murdered. Our doorman, Stuart, found her in our apartment. It was strange to hear someone was murdered in New York but when it's your mom it is even harder. My sister, Maria, doesn't even know, and I don't want to be the one to tell her. I had to drop out of college to take care of Maria and not having someone else to help will be a challenge but I am willing to face it.

I have collected these items not only as evidence for my parents death but to help me believe that it was all real that I was being suspected for their murder. The caution tape and the eyeglass was the materials that I found in my dead parents room before I was escorted to the living room.The Avery fisher hall headliner poster, the last time I could have a nice family moment before chaos with the police tore my family apart.Morris Sampson my first suspect besides my own siblings that could have a motive of murdering my parents due to hate for my mother and writing his opinions into a worst excuse of a book. The pills and the shot to declare the last time I'd ever forgotten to take my vitamins and let it into my system ever again .The airplane

My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.

After my mother and I have an argument she usually smiles at me and says, it’s because we’re so much alike that we argue. She reminds me that our lack of communicating often stirs more trouble than why we were arguing. I used to get upset that my mom didn’t set time aside for our family to spend time together or make us eat together at the dinner table. I was upset because I was comparing our family to my friends’ families. I valued those things and assumed my mom didn’t, but I was wrong. My mom had so much on her mind everyday it was breaking her on the inside. Not only had I wanted my mom to be like my friend’s moms, now I had wanted my mom to be different because she was depressed. Bonhoeffer mentions that we desire images of others that we want, but aren’t the true image they bear as Christ’s (pg37-38). At first I was puzzled. How is a good image of mine, not Christ’s image for her? I learned that His image is neither right nor wrong, but simply uniquely divine. My mom could have done those things, but her whole life would have had to be different, and I would never want to change who my mom is.

I can’t believe that I’m standing here ringing the doorbell of a woman that I just met. I probably seem like a stalker to her when all I want to do is return her wallet. And then a young man answers the door. It’s probably her husband or boyfriend, which makes this moment even worse. I hope that he doesn’t come back with a gun or punch me in the face. I’ve already been down that road and really don’t feel like getting into it today. But I knew that if I didn’t take the step to return the wallet, she would be going insane as to where she left it. I knew that much because I’ve been with enough women to know that when they lose anything of value, especially a purse, they go crazy just looking for it.

A time when I felt really sad was last christmas. It was christmas eve morning, and my mom got a call, I looked at her and I knew something was wrong, I was so scared to see what she was gonna say, did someone die, what happened? I didn't know, she was on the phone for about 15 minutes, it was driving me nuts, I didn't know who she was talking about or talking to, she just kept say “oh my gosh”, and “really”. She finally got off the phone, she sat there in shock for a few seconds, I didn't want to sound pushy or rude, but I wanted to know what was going on. She finally started talking, she looked at my dad, and started talking. I remember her words like it was yesterday. “Uncle Dave went to the hospital last night, mom said something in his

The death of a loved one is one of the most challenging events I have had to overcome. The summer of 2014, I was just going into my junior year, was one for the books. It was an absolutely amazing summer. My sister had her first baby in May and we were getting to make his first summer his best, but little did we know it would also be his last. We lost him at the end of July. It was one of the hardest things to cope with. So many unanswered questions still to this day stand.

I can still remember vividly the day my mother passed away. My mother passed away at a critical point in my life when I was seventeen years old from a short term illness. She was sick for a week and I remember thinking this could be serious, however, my mother declined to go to the hospital because of the distance and financial hardship. I had loss my father when I was three years old, so my mother was a single mother. I have step sisters and brother, but I was not particularly close to them. Losing my mother was a defining moment in my life for it changed my life irrevocably. I was devastated, but I had to become strong, proactive and it spurred me to choose a new career path.

A red brick house on top of a small hill is where my memories reside. A slightly curved gravel road led to the front of the house. Eight or nine rose brown apple trees randomly covered the plush green lawn. Down the small hill, muddy brown water trickled down a ditch with cattails surrounding it. One enormous willow tree sat in the background, to the right of the house, to complete the picture. It almost seemed like a picture from a postcard. But when

Now I can say that I had never understood others suffering from a bad loss of a dear person.  I would hate to hear that anybody died. When this happened to me, when my dear mother died, I started to understand all those people who lost someone they loved. There are perhaps no proper words to describe this pain, This intolerable pain which tears you apart, which is like a stone on your heart, and which make tears run down your face with each moment spent with the dear person who passed away. Time is unlikely to pass so fast this hurt, no matter what others claim.