Personal Narrative: A Parent's Search For Grandma

In Flannery O'Connor’s A Good Man is Hard to Find, a family trying to go on a trip to Florida plans and lives come to a tragic end because of one person in their family: Their manipulative Grandmother. Even though she says in the beginning “I wouldn't take my children in any direction with a criminal like that aloose in it” (O’Conner pg), she does the complete opposite of her word and leads them all in to the way of danger; The hands of the criminal, The Misfit. If she would have just stayed home, no one would have died in the end and the trip would have went as smoothly as it has before. Yet, the tragedy of their grandmother’s choices and commitment of many of the deadly sins are what lead them to their fates, and the grandmother to

Oh Junior, such a poor kid. Growing up with such an array of disabilities has definitely taken a toll on him. Seeing him constantly falling victim to teasing and bullying certainly makes me sad but sometimes I feel that he brings it upon himself; of course I am not allowed to say that though, being his grandmother I am required to be supportive of my grandson. I wish that he would somehow manage to at least find a few new friends. The only kid I ever see him around is that Rowdy boy. I know that they have been friends since birth but he is absolutely cruel and is constantly fighting others on the reservation - I do not think that he is a very good influence for Junior to be around. Rowdy had

Religion has always been around for many years and will continue to live on. Since 2014, there are an estimated 4,200 different religions, all over the world each believing in different things Having their own set of rules and tradition that must be followed. Storytelling became a way to give people advice or telling people what would happen if they disobey their religious rules or tradition. In the story of a grandmother, it critiques religion for the way it can lead to snap judgments and a loss of freedom.

I have a great grandma that lives in Adairsville, GA that is getting worse and worse everyday. I have never met her before until last Spring when I went on vacation to Florida and stopped on the way back to visit her. She is the sweetest little old lady I have ever met. It made me sad to know that I have never visited her until now. I wish I could see her more often. we write letters to each other quite a bit. She never forgets to send us each something on the holidays. We only visited for about 3-4 hours then headed off back home. I wanted to stay all day. Even though I have only met her once it feels like I have had this connection with her my whole life.

“Yet another boring, standard Monday morning.” Richard sighed as he walked to wake the men up. “Attention!” Richard called out loudly to the groggy and fatigued Marines. The men immediately woke up and began their rigorous routine of drills for the day, which are: eating a hearty breakfast, run 2 miles, then do the obstacle course, and then everyone's favorite part, the shooting range. Then, as always, Diedrich Manfred was horsing around again, playing with his rifle. “You no good scoundrel!” Richard shouted walking over to Diedrich Manfred.

My Grandmother goes by the name of babunya, and baba for short, this means grandma in Ukrainian. She lived in Ukraine for most of her life, and she is almost 90 years old now. She’s been through a lot in her years, thus her appearance has changed. For every wrinkle she has there’s a story to match. She has had every color hair: blonde, red, brown, and black. Now her hair is a short gray color. She keeps it short because it stays out of the way, even though she hates it short. She has always had long her until now. She has also progressively become shorter over the years due to a very bad back; she now stands just under five feet. Since she spends most of her days in the garden her usual outfit

Her story began in 1944, but has never been forgotten. By sharing her experience, she continues to influence my life.

Grandpa,my brother,and I got in the car and went to the junkyard to get a rim.When we got to the junkyard we were successful at finding the rim.So me and my grandpa went in the back to look at some cars for some spare parts we did not find any but we kept looking we had to be alert and careful for alot of broken glass and sharp object hanging off the car and on the ground.I seen more automatic cars there then i ever seen.

My subject is my aunt, Florence Lucey. She is a 65-year-old female, who identifies with her gender. She is a white, heterosexual, Catholic, Italian woman who has lived in Connecticut for her entire life. She currently lives in Weston, CT, in the home that she has lived in for the past 20 years. Florence has been married twice; she was widowed in 2003 and remarried in 2014. She has one sister, Donna, my mother, and 4 kids, all who are out of the house. I was able to gather my information over facetime and received real-time data coverage. I will be referring to my subject as Florence throughout this paper.

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

If I had the opportunity to interview anybody in my family it’d be my grandma because she grew up very poor and had to work for everything she ever received. She now is a millionaire and has traveled all over the globe. Grandma has always been a brilliant lady, and has had a full life.

Previously there was something that happened in her country. That “something” involves my two grandmas and three of my aunts. One of my grandmas were from my father’s side and the aunts were also from my father’s side. My grandma from that side is named Gem. Chrysanthemum was involved too. There were a fight and an argument. It began with a pretty hot and nice day. It was that way because my aunt took me to fun and pretty places. Where I got to try and see new things. It was a good day until I came to Gem’s house. Chrysanthemum rode a motorcycle to the house I was staying at. She rode over to the house because she wanted to pick me up. Because it was her turn to take care of me, but Gem didn’t let her. Chrysanthemum was mad because of

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

The simple bowl is deep cherry wood with a silver rimmed bottom that reflects my face upside down as a result of the polishing it has received over the years. The grain is worn, but still radiates the strength of the tree that it came from. As I run my finger over the inside of the cavernous salad bowl, it picks up some of the olive oil residue from the homemade Italian dressing that has seeped into every little grain of the bowl over years of use. Never subject to washings; we only wiped it out with a paper towel, to better flavor the crisp Boston bibb lettuce salads that it delivered at every family dinner. Just as the wood bowl, my grandmother was weathered and cracked by the trials of life. I could not be around her without leaving

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.