Personal Narrative: How Death Changed My Life

Life often throws many obstacles our way and the approach towards it allows us to grow as an individual. A combination of significant events has shaped me into the person I am today by changing my perspective on life and teaching me valuable lessons. Throughout my interview with my mom, we talked about how death has made a big impact on my life. These specific experiences include losing my grandfather, my friend passing away, and getting a new puppy. My mom and I were able to share similar responses of how I grew stronger due to these events.

The remorse grey morning awaited. I never knew one person could have such an impact on my life, as well as everyone else’s lives. I always thought everything was just a beautiful fantasy land where everything was perfect. Waterfall coming out of everyone's eyes filled my imagination of what one man can do to a crowd. I asked myself one question, “Why him, why does it have to be him”. The emotions, pouring out of meand I knew the fall of 2006 was gonna be bad.

Why am I torturing myself? Enclosed in a 3 sided cage with only the illusion of freedom out the steel framed front door. The mirrors on the walls staring at my jiggling fat from all angles. The dingy ceiling tiles are stained from countless roof leaks and the floor littered with pebbles and rubber from a busted medicine ball. The sting of body odor and bleach fills my nostrils. Head splitting music ravishes my ears through the chaos of weights clashing and ropes smacking the floor. My classmates glare at me with their squinty hypocritical eyes.

When something happens in your life when least expected, it is not always a good thing. Three years ago I didn’t think my life could be turned upside down, but it did. I and my husband started fighting a lot, and couple months later, we lost our house, and life started going downhill from there. As soon as I thought everything was getting better, it just got three times worse. This year, I told myself I was going to make it better for my family, but then I lost my kids to CPS.

I was in that room when my mother died on February 18, this past Saturday. I was crushed. I can still see her on her deathbed, her bright blue eyes that were once full of life and excitement slowly fading into a despondent gray. Although, when she held my face, her eyes looking into mine, I could see them light up. Like someone had flipped a switch and she was good as new, but I knew. I knew that that switch could not be on for long, I knew that it was time, I knew that the day was getting closer and closer, I knew that the end was near. But I was not ready to say goodbye.

When I was nine my father died. Death sprung from its hiding place and took what was most dear to me. I love my dad; he taught me to love and to enjoy life. We often went fishing and biking together. After his death the bikes and fishing poles collected dust in the garage. Sometimes when I let the feelings get to me, I would stare at the two dusty bikes and fishing poles and punch them with my small hands.

On March 16, 2014 there was a death. The death of a boy named Asher Alt. He was 15 with long black hair, khaki pants, a sweatshirt, and some Osiris shoes. There was, however, something very different about this death, the difference being that it only lasted about 90 seconds, and it was my death. Ninety seconds doesn’t seem like long, it’s only a minute and a half and isn’t ever directly documented as a death, but those 90 seconds of death sure did change my life. Death was most definitely a surreal experience unlike anything I could’ve imagined.

The one thing we must constantly remind ourselves is that death is not the end of our life. We cannot and we will not forfeit what beautiful and precious time we have left wallowing in the darkness of a life ending. I know that the pain is real and I know that sometimes the everything is just too loud and enormous and overwhelming. But we must carry on and we must endure and we must live without ever being held back.

Today I was joined by John (the ox) Entwistle one day after he was pronounced dead in the arms of a Las Vegas stripper from a cocaine overdose 2 days before The Who’s states tour: The bassist of the millennium was in room 658 of the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Nevada. The stripper/groupie of the band Alycen Rowse found John cold when she woke up. We talked to him and discussed how he was feeling about his death and hopefully find out the story behind it.

On the morning of May 5th my views, my ideology, and my life changed dramatically. It was an expected loss yet caused me to realize just how much things in life mean, even the smallest things. After getting out of the shower and dressed for school I had time to spare so I decided to make sure everything was ready and eat some breakfast. I turned to look at my phone, after deciding to turn it on, and all I saw was a list of text messages from my mother. I normally don’t get that many texts, that early. I knew something bad must have happened. I unlocked my phone and began to read the messages. My great grandma had died; an influential person for me and my family. She died after being on hospice for 5 brutal days. Images flashed across my mind: her and I playing cards, her teaching me to cook, and her lessons, forever engraved into my soul.

Funerals are usually attened to after a loved one has passed away. A living funeral is unique and can be seen a singular experience. My living funeral would be held at my house from two to five. The decor would very simplistic. My closests families and friends would attend wearing bright colors. We would enjoy a variety of foods, vegetables and fruits. After we eat we would gather around each other and share memories and stories. Afterwards an obituary would be read by my sister. The obituary is as follows Valy Yaldo, passed away after living a wonderful,short life on October 12, 2017 at the age of 17 in Coldwater, Michigan.She was born on August 14,2000 in Iraq. She was daughter to Dina and Athir Yald. Valy was also a sister to Merna Yaldo,

The year of 2016 I had a lot of problems from dealing with death and money. On April 20,2016 my step mom passed away from colon cancer which made my life change in a bad way but a little good. This problem of losing my stepmom made me feel like it was a piece of my heart has been broken off and fed to a dog as a treat. She came in my life when I was four close to five. I wasn't really expecting this to happen, the doctors did not find out she had it November, but in July they saw the start of it and diagnosed her with a kidney stone. It's been hard getting over the fact that I lost one of my parents at a young age, it also had been hard for my dad and half brother. My half brother is eleven and hasn't really taken it in that his mother is

As I walked through the door, I saw two mysterious figures. I walked closer and noticed that one of the figures was my boss, Mr.Boddy. The other guy was gone and Mr.Boddy was dead. It looks like the other guy jumped out the window and left his weapon behind.The weapon he used to kill Mr. Boddy was a dagger. I think to my self where is the phone I must call 911. I find the house phone and dial 911, ''hello 911 what is your emergency?'' ''I came home and saw two black figures so I walked closer and didn’t see the second one but I did see my boss, Mr. Boddy lying on the ground dead but the other guy was gone and the dagger he used was lying on the ground beside Mr. Boddy.'' '' ok where are you at?'' said the police.

Do you know the saying “My life flashed in front of my eyes?” Not my life flashing, but my grandma’s life flashed before my eyes. She looked very pretty as she laid there peacefully. She wore her best dress and held the cross that my dad had made for her. All the horror that was in her face 4 days ago was gone, and peace and beauty overcame her body. I saw her on Tuesday, she died on Wednesday, and the funeral was Saturday. When I saw her on Tuesday, she couldn’t talk, and her eyes were glazed over, but the spirit was still in her heart. I could see it, the way she laid, surrounded by pillows and machines, made me feel like she was fighting to not pass in front of her family but to wait until we left. My dad

It was called the “Years of Death” by my family. With this recent war and the constant need to draft, the food and clothing were scarce. My family figured out a way to survive. We survived off the land. Being in Siberia, though, made things, like food, scarce. “Vladimir!” my mother screamed from downstairs, “Dinners ready!” I was overjoyed. I ran downstairs at a fast pace. I could smell the rabbit my father had killed this morning. It had been a while since my last warm meal. “Where is your sister?” I shrugged and went to her room. “Sasha, dinners ready.” she did not move. I walked up to her and tapped her. She fell over, lifeless. Instantly a wave of depression went over me. We were all hungry, but none of us knew she was that hungry. I began