Personal Narrative Essay : My Nana's Birthday

That day when I returned home from school, my mom’s boyfriend called me asking to speak to my grandmother. Typically, Gus would call my grandmother himself if he wanted to speak with her, which was rare. I found out about my mom going to the hospital from my grandmother after that phone call. The doctor told my family that a stroke afflicted her in the middle of the day. My mom confused the date with her birthday, had trouble getting words out and remembering our family member’s names. The nurse had to take her for walks periodically and exercise her legs and arms because they were weak. Seeing my mother in this condition made me appreciate my mother and everything she does for me tremendously. However, I was terrified for my mother’s health.

One of my favorite memories is going in the field and rolling around till every spot was full of mud. We go from fishing in the summer, to jumping in the waterfall and ice skating in the winter. When we went to six flags we rode the roller coaster until we felt sick. She knows how to make the smallest things into something fun. When we asked to go strawberry picking we didn't get one strawberry in the bucket, but at least are tummy’s were full. One of the scariest moments in my life is when Mckenah feel and hit her head. When I ran over to her she was awake but not moving. I carried her into the house and looked down and seen fear on her face. I asked her some questions and she had no memory of the last month. She could move everything but she said her head hurt. Knowing that my parents weren’t home, I didn’t know what to do other than telling her “I’m right here everything is going to be okay”. McKenah was know crying and as I called my grandma I started to cry too. I tried to stay strong for her and hide my tears as I got her up. On the way to the hospital I remember her looking up and telling me “ i’m glad you're here”. I stayed with McKenah the whole time at the hospital with her parents, and went to her house as often as I could to visit her. These memories make me thankful to have McKenah as my friend, and I cherish every memory even if they're small

Happiness held Jane’s hand as she walked to school and it stayed with her the rest of the day. It was the best birthday

My grandma was my best friend when I was young; I couldn’t wait to go see her. Being her only granddaughter I was secretly her favorite. She would have lots of yummy treats when I would visit her and when no one was looking she would sneak me a few

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

It was my sisters sixth birthday, and my mom was putting on a birthday party for her, the house was decorated with orange, pink and white streamers, the colors meshed like a beautiful sunset that hung from one corner to the next, with colorful balloons attach to the streamers like a nail in the wall, and as the sun shown through the curtains, the room seemed more lively and happy with every ray that shown through. The atmosphere of today was very fitting for my little sisters happy personality, even though the weight of the news my family received a couple weeks before still lingered, that my Grandma had a severe case of alzheimer's disease my family tried to be strong and happy for Marie, but I saw right through everyone's happy

I knew from that point on everything was going to be okay and she was a fighter. After a few weeks of chemo she was able to go back home and take care of herself again. I didn’t want to bother her or make her tired so I tried not to ask as many questions or talk as much. On our last real morning together she woke me up and asked me, is it coffee for one or two? I smiled and said make it two I had a rough night. She laughed at me and said one it is and milk and honey for the youngest nurse I’ve ever had.as we always did we had our morning talk, but this talk was different. She told me, if anyone ever asks about me tell them my name was Ruth Mae Marks I was born a Simmons and I was a fighter. I raised all of my girls to be fighters just like me. I looked at her with a confused face as she smiled at me and said, my life was spent work all day until you came along and I had a reason to retire. She told me every morning I gave her something to live for just because she knew I would always be there waiting for her. I started to cry because I knew this was her good bye, she told me tears were made of salt and salt was made for cooking not running down your face. This was the morning I learned how to make red velvet cake and the last morning I got to talk with my grandmother. As much as I miss her I’m glad she’s at peace. Every day I spend my mornings talking to her in hopes that she hears me and I’m making her proud of me. She made me a fighter and a strong believer that I can overcome

Everyone came that I called spent time with her and we laughed knowing that it was wrong to be laughing at the memories with her lying there slowly leaving us. The memory that everyone seemed to enjoy the most was the Christmas that had just past. Mom’s reaction to everyone in her room at one time, due to the room being so little and there being at least twenty-five people in there with us remind all of us of the people trying to see how many people they could fit into phone booth.

To emphasize, she has been prolonged in a hospital for over two months due to critical conditions of her sickness. Though it was excruciating I visited her as much as I was permitted. I knew I had a minimum amount of time to spend with her so I made every possible second count. It was exactly one week and three days before Christmas day when she passed. I planned to give her her present the day of Christmas but was unfortunately unable to. I was in extreme agonizing pain and for this reason I became detached from myself and the world for a half a year, but I knew I couldn't stay this way for the rest of my life so I strived to cope with these traumatizing obstacles which eventually led to become resilient.

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

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.

The morning sunshine seeped through the cracks between my shutters, lighting up my room. I could hear the clock ticking and the rays of sunlight bouncing off of my eyelids. I barely got any sleep last night because I was ecstatic that tomorrow was, my birthday! I jumped up out of bed, how could I have forgotten that it was my birthday? Suddenly all of my drowsiness turned it into excitement and I jumped up, throwing the red gradient quilt off of my bed. I slowly walked out of my room, making very little noise, checking to see if anyone else was awake. I peeked through the intricate staircase railings and tried to spot anyone downstairs, no one was in sight. I tiptoed down the cream coloured stairs, reached the bottom and got startled when my mom yelled, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, her voice bouncing off the walls of house. A grin so big spread across my face, I couldn’t believe I was turning four years old!

June 11, 2015. It was a regular summer day, or so I thought. Only five days until my fifteenth birthday and I was super excited. My mom had taken the morning off from work to take my grandmother to the doctors. She was going for her regular heart check-up appointment. As we always did, my mother and I drove that morning over to the nursing home in St. Matthews, South Carolina. My mother had recently entered my grandmother into the nursing home because my mom needed to start working more and could not fulfill the obligations of taking care of my grandmother like she normally would. When we got to the nursing home, we parked the car under the awning which was in the front of the nursing and covered a little walkway where people loaded their family members. I got out first and headed back to the room as my mom followed closely behind. When I walked into the room, I saw my sweet loving grandmother sitting there. As always, my beautiful grandmother, with her white hair, her green eyes, her frail but beautiful skin, and her smile glistened as she awaited her day out. My grandmother did not get out much so even going to the doctors was a good day out for her. We helped her into her wheelchair, a normal struggle for my mother and I, and we rolled her down the hallway to the car. We loaded her into the car, another struggle, and we headed off to Orangeburg which was where the doctors office was. While riding to the doctor's office my grandmother mentioned that her hands looked green

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.