Personal Narrative Essay

I really enjoyed reading about your grandma. I too understand the love and respect that you cherish for her. I hope my grandpa and grandma live to 94 years or more. I too believe that it’s unfair for younger generations to forget about our elderly people. I sometimes repeat and emphasis on this so much because I have seen some assisted living homes where the elderly people are so sad that you can see in their face the desperation to talk or be love by someone. Defending the rights that elderly people have is sometimes misunderstood and completely taken advantage. It’s sad to see how many children do this to their family members. I couldn’t forget about my grandpa and grandma they play a big role in the women that I am today.

My grandmas had fruitful lives going into their late eighties, bringing to this world a plethora of grandchildren and great grandchildren, so needless to say, they were loved by the masses. When I was born, my family wasn’t financially stable, so we had to live with my mom’s parents, Martina and Theodore. While we lived there, Martina was like my second mom, she watched over me like I was her own child, she fed me when I got hungry, comforted me when I was sad, she was always there. Whenever I got hungry, I wouldn’t ask for much, the one thing I wanted the most was top ramen. I’d run to the kitchen, find the little bag of dried up noodles, and go to my grandma and say, “I want this,” holding it up to her with my stubby little arms, and she would just nod because of her limited English vocabulary. She would call my name “MATTHEW!” and put my noodles in a mixing bowl and say “es hot, es

Every summer My family and I drive up to my Grandparents house in Harwich, Cape Cod. Driving over the Bourne bridge brings back so many memories every time we pass over it. The countless beach days, relaxing in the lazy river, and spending time with family. My grandma always greets us with a loving smile. She runs over to the car and immediately starts to talk and attempts to kiss us. My grandma’s face always lights up when she sees our family, especially my dog Penny. My grandma Anita, has always been around dogs. She has had three in her lifetime and seeing our dog makes her remember the good times she shared. My grandma is prepared to give my dog multiple treats the second she jumps out of the car. She reached in her pocket and grabbed a handful of dog treats and dropped them on the grass. Penny’s tail wags the second she smells the treats. We grabbed our bags from the car and walked into the house. The fresh scent of candles made its way into my nose which makes me remember how peaceful Cape Cod is. My Grandma’s excitement radiates as we all walk into the house. The house has not changed one but, it still has the high vaulted ceilings, the granite kitchen, and the enormous back yard. My grandma is so thoughtful she makes a reservation for us to go out to eat at a well respected restaurant. Knowing my grandma and the countless fun I have experienced throughout my life I know we were going to have a good time.

I’m going to introduce my grandma a little bit. She was the grandma that always had treats for you. A lot of the times the treat was ice cream. Even when you were home sick from school, she would give you a bowl of ice cream. She was the grandma that always loved her grandkids. Even the dogs. She loved my old dog Maddie, who my grandma called “Maddie-Moo”. She would always give Maddie treats. She was the grandma who always wanted us to be down at her house. I mean that’s every grandma, but she always wanted us to get off the bus at her house, and come see her anytime we wanted. Some of my favorite things we kids did was going down to the farm and playing around, and then we would stop playing and go down to grandma’s to get ice cream. Or when I did chores with my dad in the morning, I would go straight down to grandmas. I mean I would do a few chores, but then I would ditch him to go see my grandma. I would always wait up there until it was time for coffee. Which is where they all take a break from chores to eat breakfast, and that’s usually at about 10. So now that you know my grandma a little better, let's start the story.

My heart’s pounding as I sit in my pink and purple car seat (mind you I’m 7.) Over the years I’ve actually learned how to get to my grandparents just by memory, so I know when my mom and I start to get closer. As we get closer I start to daydream. What I daydream about isn’t like what most 7 year olds daydream about which is puppies, unicorns, and rainbows. I begin to daydream about how much fun my grandma and I will have today and the weeks to come, only if she’s feeling well of course. The days leading up to today I’d call my grandpa and ask if I could come over to see my grandma, but I’d always get the same response, “Grandma’s sick right now, she doesn’t want visitors.” Of course I’d get sad, but I knew that she needed to feel better and get some rest. Since I knew she didn’t feel well, I had my mom get me a “Get well soon” card from Meijer so I could give it to my grandma when I see her today. I don’t mean to sidetrack, but my grandma is a really beautiful human being. Her hair is as red as fire, her eyes are as blue as the

My great grandma was the my mother’s mother figure, since my mom is an irish twin her mother couldn't take care of her. So my mom was sent to live with my great grandma. My great grandma had thought of my mom as her own daughter and my mom loved her as her own mother. My great grandma had many grandchildren and loved them all, but she had always loved my mom the most.Ever since I was younger my great grandma would come and visit my family. When she would come she would shower my siblings and I with gifts. She always had gotten us exactly what we had wanted. She was the sweetest person to everyone around her. She would also get my cousins from my dad’s side gifts. She had treated them like her own children.

My eyes wandered around the room that my grandmother now resided in, drinking up every detail and at the same time, cautiously avoiding the bed that was in the center of the room. I couldn't bear to look at my once lively and animated grandma now laying there looking lethargic. No would even believe me if I described how my she used to look; her expressive eyes were full of knowledge and secrets that only she knew, her surprisingly thick hair that was red from the henna she puts on every other saturday, and a warm smile that made anyone feel special if it was directed at them, I want to remember her as my grandma who used make an extra cake when we baked together because she knew that I wouldn't like the one I made, not as my grandma who is on a bed that may as well be her death bed. Her loud laughter used to echo through her small and cozy house that I used to spend all my summers in. Now you'd have to listen closely to be able to hear her, her vocals not being able to produce a sound louder than a whisper.

Is my grandmother described in an engaging way? Do you care about her a little bit? How is our relationship described?

Visits to great-grandma’s house were like holidays. Not only was I allowed to have all the dessert I wanted, but I didn’t have to clean my plate for it. Grandma spent hours playing tea party, board games and reading to me because she said I was her “greatest great-granddaughter.” I felt so safe and loved when she tucked into bed, kissed me on the forehead and whispered, “I love you. I am so proud of you, just for being you!”

As I sauntered into the house, my grandma tried to get my attention, but I was not attentive at all. Besides, I wanted to be alone. I went into the three-season porch and sat in my dad’s black, leather office chair. As I

As I sauntered into the house, my grandma tried to get my attention, but I was not attentive at all.  Besides, I wanted to be alone.  I went into the three-season porch and sat in my dad’s black, leather office chair.

When I woke up, I heard the door to my room shut. I got out of my bed to see what was going on, only to find my grandma sitting in her chair. Everything about her appearance looked so ancient, she was aged like an old willow tree. “Good morning, grandma,” I said with a smile. “When did you get here?”

Because of Grandma Becky’s harder-than-nails exterior, she was a hard person to get to know intimately, and as far as affection went- with her, there was never any hugs and kisses or sitting in her lap while I was growing up. Just to be allowed to sit at the table with her had been a privilege denied to many.

In 1897, my great-great-grandfather was born in North Carolina. His name was Roy Hudson. He served in the army in World War One and he died in 1960 from a lengthy issue with his heart. His heart issues started when he developed pleurisy, most likely from sleeping on the cold, wet ground while in the Army during World War One. He was only sixty-three years old when he died. Just before he died, he gave his wife, my great-great-grandmother, his glasses, a book, and a billfold. My great-great-grandmother's name was Roland Goddard. She was born in 1898 in North Carolina, and her parents died when she was only eight years old. She was very active in her community, and acted in community plays. She was very kind, and she sang beautifully. In 1979, she died when she was eighty-one years old. One of Roland´s children, Doris Hudson, was born in North Carolina in 1927. She is my great-grandmother, and she is still living. She is ninety years old and I call her Gaga. She fell a few months ago and could not walk for a while, but she recovered and is now able to walk slowly. When I was too young to go to daycare, she would babysit me all day. She thought that is was alright for me to eat cookies when I could barely eat solid food. She also thought that I was hungry every time that I cried, therefore I was a very chubby baby. She had three children; Bobby Rose, Jacquelyn “Jackie” Rose, and Jerry Rose. Jackie is my grandmother. She was born in Virginia, but moved to Buras, Louisiana, then later moved to Shreveport, Louisiana. She played outfield on a semi-professional softball team, and she was a teacher, although she retired after the 2016-2017 school year. She had two children; Michael Marino, and Jamie Marino. Jamie is my mother. She was born in Virginia, but moved to Buras, Louisiana, then to Shreveport, Louisiana. She currently teaches music at Sunset Acres Elementary, but she has held other teaching jobs as an English or history teacher. She received her Bachelor’s degree in teaching at LSUS, and received her Master’s degree in teaching through online classes at Northwestern University. She served in the secret service under President Bush, and met Dick Chaney, Bush’s Vice President from 2001-2009. She has three

Within seconds, I was gathered in the arms of a plump old woman while her words floated up to me, "Well, there's my girl!" I smiled and pulled back from the embrace, staring down at the woman who had come to be my second grandma. She was 80, rather over weight, and short wavy gray-white hair sat atop a round face. Small, beady wide spread gray-green eyes smiled at me with a cheerful light and a pudgy nose crinkled above thin pale lips. I looked at her and saw the love in her eyes. I smiled and knew that there was no where else I needed to be.