Personal Narrative: My Family's Song 'My Girl'

Ella Wood. That’s who I am just Ella Wood a 16 year old girl who never really had much going on and who not many people knew. At least that’s what I had thought a few hours ago when my name wasn’t on the news and pretty much every other place that you could think of. You may be confused as to what I’m talking to you about, so let me tell you a story. Let me warn you though this is not just any story, but my story. First of all let me introduce myself a bit better. I live in a town that’s kind of big and called Blackview. I love to make music it’s one of my special talents and I could also dance. I have an older brother named Tyler. I also have a twin brother named Ethan we’re practically inseparable. We’ve done a lot of things together and

Every night that we were able to get hot showers we celebrating making it through the day. It was one more day down before we could see our families. We would wright our families every chance we got. The days we received a letter from home was like a kid getting told he was going to Disney World. We would rip into the letter tearing the envelope to pieces. I had never felt so close to my family. I knew I had taken them for granted and I just wanted to be in my mom’s arms

Unexpectedly, my father called and with an unsteady voice explained, “I had to take your mother to the emergency room, and she is now being admitted to the hospital.” At age 13, this phone call began the most dreadful time of my life. Prior to this event, I was exceedingly dependent on my parents and even struggled with separating from them. In the beginning of my mother’s hospital stay, my familymy parents and two, younger sisters were constantly divided. My father stayed in the hospital with my mother, while my sisters and I would switch between caring family members and friends. Eventually I grew tired of different environments and decided that staying home alone was the far better option. As a result, I appreciate independence and know how to solely maintain a home.

A life lesson that I learned from The Cellist of Sarajevo is that it is better to live, even in a dark, war-torn, seemingly hopeless world, than to be dead. While sometimes death may appear preferable because it seems to promise freedom from pain and suffering, the truth is that being alive means still having a chance, still having the possibility to turn things around and have a good life, even if it is darkened with difficult times. There is never a time when life, as miserable as it may be, does not have something positive going for it that can be seen if only we look hard enough for it. Even in the midst of our darkest moments, if we just open our eyes, it is possible to find something, if not many things, that make our lives worthwhile,

If you ask me “What about you love to do , What the good song for you?. For me , Music made me inspire me to do the heart voice . It’s begin from The Bee Gees bands.

The events that took place on June 1st, 2013 is almost a blur, although, the sensation has always been ever so clear to me. I felt alive. I felt enchanted. And I felt wanted. Almost every little problem vanished for that one specific night. Who would’ve thought a single person can make you feel invincible? Cristian, was nearly the opposite the person I was. He was true rock and roll, and I was merely the product of the mainstream rock phenomena. He almost seemed very opinionated as I had always kept to myself, It was odd and a little unexpected. Although we both are very timid from the naked eye, to my surprise he was actually very witty and humorous. One lonely night at a park was the beginning of a very long and faithful friendship.

When it was 11:50 Jazz and I went to my Range Rover and got inside the car. Jazz had to drive my car back to the hotel because I sprained my ankle making me too “disabled” to drive a car. God, spraining my ankle has a lot of setbacks, I might even die in my car sine Jazz is driving, I thought to myself. After reaching the hotel without dying, we went to the auditorium to find that it was almost full yet we managed to find two seats next to each other in the fifth row.

When I turned 11-years-old my whole childhood began to change my life went from being perfect to everything but perfect. One day I came home to hear the news my father, my best friend; my hero was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. Not knowing the struggle my family was about to take on I just began to cry. I had a million things running through my head what’s going to happen? Will everything be okay? Why him? What is going to happen? With all these things rushing through my head all I could do was cry not knowing this was least worse to come.

As she shared this with me I could see in her eyes that this statement was genuine by the way her eyes locked with mine and the corners of her eyes lifted upwards as if her eyes were even smiling themselves. The farther in depth she went into this topic the more she unveiled her true colors to me. Gabrielle is the oldest sister of three and had to do more than most children should ever have too. When Gabrielle was still just a child at age 11 her mother had been in a car accident that put her in the hospital for months. “This was terrifying for me as a kid because my moms’ sister died before I was born and I had no idea what would happen next.” As she spoke it was obvious that this was a soft spot for her. Her voice became unsteady as she spoke about the traumatizing event in her life. Unsure of her mother’s critical condition, Gabrielle knew she had to be strong for her sisters and stay positive. “I knew that I had to be there for my sisters. My Dad worked until about six every night and I had to make sure my sisters were okay until he got home. I would make sure that

At the young age of six, I found myself caring for my mother in a faded pink garage, we called our home. My thirty-year-old mother laid on the floor groaning in pain unable

I became a little obsessed with her. Whenever I took out her photo my head couldn’t stop from tilting and my eyes couldn’t stop from peering closely because the image itself was awe-inspiring in its simplicity. She couldn’t have been more than four at the time it was taken; her dark ringlets fell close to her waist and she was young enough to where the strands looked as fragile as the dandelion she held gently in her hands. Her mouth was forming a smile as the white tufts drifted away. Of course, it’s a still image, but I felt as if I was there in the moments following the snapshot, when she giggled and reached for the little seeds floating away, a brazen grin on her face. Who knows what she wished for. Her eyes were the type that stayed sad even in the lightest of times, and sometimes when I glanced

Although “Stronger” was written in early 2011, I still listen to it very often. Every time the song brings back the terrible memories of both times the best person in my life had cancer. However, this song also brings back the amazing memories I had with my mom. Memories that show her courage and strength when I had little. One memory I had with my mom was sitting at Duke University hospital waiting on her final chemotherapy treatment before her surgery a few weeks ahead. The first three lines of the song perfectly described my life in that moment. As my mom and I listened, we just laughed at how much the song meant to the both of

Sitting in the back seat of our car at the young age of five, I vividly remember hearing the lyrics of my parent’s Fleetwood Mac tape blaring from the speakers. It is from this memory, and many, many car rides that my love for the band Fleetwood Mac grew. Listening to Stevie Nicks, the lead singer of Fleetwood Mac, sing with her raspy, unique voice lead me to be a die-hard fan still to this day. My admiration for Stevie and the amazing performer that she is has played a significant role in my life, especially when I was in my late teens and early twenties. The events of her life, which are often included in her song lyrics, have stayed with me and inspired me to grow as a person. Her story is that of amazing heartache and

Two years ago, my grandmother died from Alzheimer’s and I wanted to do something about it. For a school “Change the World” project, I researched medical and social initiatives and discovered a non-profit organization, called Music and Memory. The movie, Alive Inside, showed how they used music to touch and “awaken” seniors suffering from dementia. I wanted to participate and developed a plan to fund-raise to provide local Alzheimer’s patients with iPods, customized with playlists with each person’s favorite music. I raised over $500 and collected a number of iPods. I did not have time to identify and get permission to meet with seniors by the conclusion of the project. The experience showed me how much could be done with motivation, focus, and a little support. I did fail to meet the goal, but the setback did not diminish my passion for music and fondness for seniors.

Parents are so important in a child’s life. I consider both the father and the mother to be equally important in the life of a child. The thought for me of losing either parent is heart wrenching. However, this essay involves the loss of my mother. At the age of fifty-eight she transition from earth to heaven due to breast cancer.