Personal Narrative: Death Of A Child

I wait at the door. I put on my solemn, grim face, I cannot let these children see me as a soft women. I am anything but that, well I guess I am, but we all need to hide our inner emotions some how. My useless husband, Hans, mumbles, “I see the car”. We step outside, most people think Hans and I are crazy for opening our home to these two children, but every little bit of money that we can earn helps. Plus, they can help with the laundry, I think and smile.

Mother is long gone. Even though she died nearly 3 years ago I still feel empty. Ever since, it has been my responsibility to take care of grandmother even though she believes I’m the one who killed her only daughter. This is why she refuses to live with me, she thinks I’m going to kill her as well because I have cruel vengeance against them for taking me away from my father at such a young age. They thought he could never change from his old ways. But truth is that it is unknown of how she died but it was too much of a coincidence to grandmother that me and mother were in a fight and we were all alone in our small house right out of town, all I remember is running up to her room after hearing a loud crash and all that was left of her was gone. The police gave up the investigation knowing 100% sure that she was dead by the amount of blood that was left behind by her thinking she would have bled out before she

‘I don’t want to lose her,’ I kept repeating in my head trying to look strong for her. I was trying to not show how scared I was, trying to stop bursting into tears the second I saw her in the state she was. She was so weak and there was nothing I could do to help, except stay out of the doctor’s way. There were nurses and doctors rushing around and giving me a strange look until realization dawned on them. I was at the hospital with my mom around 10 at night, in my pajamas, wondering what was going to happen to her and if she was going to be okay.

And then, the day I had feared of most, finally arrived. We lost our father, the only figure I truly felt safe with. After months of mourning and painful transformations, our mother fell sick. In those terrible days, days during which I was locked in the basement most of the time, for my safety and even more: for the safety of my family, I was incapable of helping. To this, I regret even today.

In chapter 19 of your book Edward deals with the loss of Sarah Ruth.Edward loses Sarah Ruth due to an illness.I have dealt with loss such as Edward did in chapter 19.I lost my dog/best friend to an infection.Due to the infection she couldn't walk or eat. I got Chivers when I was 3 and lost her when I was 13.That's a long time,she had grown on my whole family and nobody could believe what my dad had done.He put her down because he thought it was the best for her and I guess he was right. Edward and I don't deal with the same type of loss.I saw Chivers being put down from a mile away.Edward losing Sarah Ruth was a surprise. So she eventually had gotten very skinny and helpless and had to get put down so she would no longer suffer.

I have for months been in apprehension that David would volunteer. Yet, joining the Army will be a terrible trial to me. He joined the Washington County Company commanded by Capt.Willet. They are now at Camp Cummings, the Fair ground. David sold his Pistol, got $25 for it, paid some of his little debts and we are preparing shirts with crochet work. He is very serious and deliberate about it, and the poor boy, he will be more so as the hardships thicken upon him. He was anxious to be called in.

Well this year was a hell of a year. I mean, i didn't pass any of the semesters but i did observe a ton of stuff that went on in the class. The class in general was pretty lit. Every day went by and i honestly did some work. The class was ready to learn as mrs g was ready to teach. I mean yea we had some days were we didn't want to learn anything and there were also days when mrs g didn't want to teach. But ima be honest, doing the work we did wasn't in my best interest. Most of the projects we did in class i worked on, but at the end i didn't end up liking how i did it so i wouldn't even bother turning anything in. like the obituary we had to write about ourselves. I liked the meaning behind this but honestly i didn't want to work on that because it just brought back memories of my friends that were killed.

I have collected these items not only as evidence for my parents death but to help me believe that it was all real that I was being suspected for their murder. The caution tape and the eyeglass was the materials that I found in my dead parents room before I was escorted to the living room.The Avery fisher hall headliner poster, the last time I could have a nice family moment before chaos with the police tore my family apart.Morris Sampson my first suspect besides my own siblings that could have a motive of murdering my parents due to hate for my mother and writing his opinions into a worst excuse of a book. The pills and the shot to declare the last time I'd ever forgotten to take my vitamins and let it into my system ever again .The airplane

I picked to go along with her story as well as not tell her the truth about her parents dying because I did not have the heart to tell her that her parents died a long time ago. A lot of the other caregivers would do the samething. If I were to follow fidelity and tell her that her parents were dead, her sister died a long time ago and that she was living in a memory care in Dallas she would be even more upset. By going along with what she was saying and not correcting her, the situation would be resolved a lot quicker than if we were to tell her that her parents were dead and she lives in a care community. Not telling them the truth, when they will forget that they asked is a lot easier than telling them.

I remember when I decided to exclusively pump for my son. I had struggled with nursing him in the three weeks since he’d been born, and we’d been going to the doctor every few days for a weight check, because he still wasn’t back up to his birth weight.

The day I almost died was the day my child came into this world. She came bursting into this world four weeks earlier than expected and it all started a week earlier. A simple checkup that resulted into an ultrasound, labor, and finally the moment I almost died.

When you hear the words I am pregnant from husbands standpoint. You are over-whelmed and you think man I did it now. These are natural reactions to the news. Babies are a wonder and a blessing. They bring happiness and frustration and this is how my story goes. One that would change me forever. I found out that my wife was pregnant about six months after my wife had a miscarriage. Then that day came my son was born was amazing and change me with happiness, less sleep, and nervousness.

The day that my son Bailey dropped of his two children to be raised by me and my crippled brother Willie was a Tuesday. The store had been busier than usual. The Blinker family had come by early in the morning and bought all there food for the week. Mrs. Blinker said they didn't come Monday which was their usual day because little Tessy Blinker had her fifth birthday and they had a some sort of a celebration for the child's special day. When Baileys rusty old beaten station wagon pulled up, the sun was just about set. This was time my moma used to tell me God and Adam got the closes in the garden of eden. As a child I thought always looked like a golden lemon drop falling down to god's mouth. But as a godly woman I know, know it is just

Death of a parent and the children’s experience: Don’t ignore the elephant in the room

April 6, 1997, twenty years ago our family lives was drastically changed, with the death of my husband, father of my children. Mike was only forty-two years’ old when he passed away from a heart attack. Mike went to the hospital complaining of chest pains; he was observed in the hospital overnight, and some tests were taken of his heart. He was released from the hospital and three days later he died in his sleep from the widow maker heart attack. With the history of heart disease in the family, his grandfather/father passed away from heart disease at the age of forty years old. Waking up that morning and finding Mike has passed away in his sleep; was very devastating for our family, his mom, brothers, my sisters, and brother-in laws. At the time of his death, I was thirty-six-years old, a stay home mom, and our children Amy, was eleven years old, Kristina, nine years old, and Vincent seven years old. The hospital did not take any responsibility of his passing; we received no social services or any explanation from the hospital why the tests didn’t show any results of heart disease. Now my status is widow/single parent unemployed raising our three children on my own. Not knowing what the future holds for us.