Personal Narrative: The Loss Of My Brother Changed My Life

Sometimes when you go through hardships you feel that you are alone and there is nobody there for you. Recently this past year I lost my grandfather I didn't really understand why it had to happen the way it did it was just a lot for me. When it all happened I just kind of boxed myself in this little corner. I didn't want to do anything I just wanted to be to myself. This really started to affect me in every way I just honestly went into a depression. Loss and Grief can be really depressing for a lot of people especially when it’s someone that you are very close to. I and my grandfather were very close he was somebody that I would see almost every day. For him to be gone where I can no longer be with him was very hard for me. It took me awhile

Then came my brother’s illness. Within the span of less than a week, I was hurled into the real world: a world of uncertainty, adults, and death. Death had finally reached my front door. For four months, he waited there, but would not come in. This time, he was expected. After about three months, and for the first time in my life, I truly feared Death and its power. Unlike with the first three boys, death was more expected. My brother was not eating, not walking, and was showing no signs of improvement. Looking back on it now, I realize that to the adults, it probably seemed like only a matter of time. With my childlike faith, however, this did not seem like a possibility, or at least I told myself that. My brother could not die, he was not like those other boys. Yet he was, to Death’s cold, indiscriminate eye, my brother was exactly the same. However, as I have learned, Death does not care. Death did not care that my brother had been bedridden in a hospital for the past few months or that another boy was just trying to enjoy a pool-party, because he eventually decided to leave my brother alone. He left our home’s doorway with only the smudge of his fingerprints on the

explain a little background as to why I chose this topic. My brother in law’s brother lost his life

I have lost my grandpa and have not gotten over the idea of it. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandfather was very sick; he could barely walk. While my grandmother and some other family members went uptown for some household things, food, and medication, I was told to take care of him. Yet, I wanted to play with my friends outside. He told me to go ahead and play, but for some reason I just got mad and slammed the door and left. Around nighttime, I seen an ambulance pull up to my grandparents’ house.

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’d had many mini-lifelines thrown my way, none turned out to be the life-altering, ground shaking beneath me, and gates to opening up “heaven”, though. To me, I’d blame it on the different ways I came off to strangers, depends on the day, I could be a multitude of characters, but never latch onto the following of others. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted my lifeline to latch onto, the problem was, I was like a fishing net with a gaping hole--incapable of doing such things. Then, the last person I expected to, stepped up and accepted the challenge.

Am I my brother’s keeper? I have continuously asked myself this question since I was a child. My understanding of the question continues to grow, as I get older and wiser. In my opinion, people are more inclined to develop thoughts about their legacies as they age. My case is no different. When I have the time to meditate and just think, I often wonder about it. How will others remember me? How did I affect the world? These questions, along with a burning desire to heal (in any capacity whether it is spiritual, physical or mental), have strongly influenced my decision to become a cardiologist. I believe that my disadvantaged upbringing, uniqueness, and desire to see change in deprived communities will help me achieve my dream: making a difference as a cardiologist.

am beset {long pause} How long will I let the pain and loss define my life? An enduring struggle of loss and gain A monumental achievement through the tangles of deeds But is left alone with silent words How despairing...... These are the trials that deepens the roots That takes away your self The distant whisper

On October 11th 1999 my baby brother bled to death in my mother’s’ arms due to hemophilia. At the time I did not understand death or my brothers rare medical condition. I also did not know that this traumatic event would lead my mother into a chronic depression and would lead her to a place where she wanted to commit suicide 18 years later. Though I had so many questions about what happened to my brother and what my mother was going through, I had no question in my mind that I had

There they were. The jeans I have been wanting for months. The blue acid-washed jeans that have been out of stock for what felt like forever, have finally come to the clothing store near me. I ran like a cheetah to the store window.

As we mature, we learn to appreciate certain people in our lives, for instance: our grandparents. We live with the fear that we can lose them in the blink of an eye, as every passing day brings them closer to their death beds (hyperbole), but we're too busy living our lives, making time for work, school, and friends (Euphemism). We assure ourselves that we have forever to spend with them, but that is where we are mistaken. Unfortunately, this year in January, I experienced the cruel reality of death, myself. I have realized, truly how much death can change your perspective on many aspects of life. When I faced with this death, I began to appreciate family more, began to express my love for them more out of the fear that any goodbye could be the last.

The everyday struggle of having no sight or hearing in it of itself is a challenging experience. To gain success in anything she had to work 100 times harder than any other pupil, to create stories she had to endure the tedious process of rewriting thoughts countless times prior to putting a single word on paper due to the fear of plagiarism. Everything that was thrown at Helen she learned how to fight through it; in my opinion, I believe that all these experiences conditioned her into stronger and an undoubtably driven woman. Nevertheless her strength and phenomenal work ethic did not come easy to Helen, it took years upon years to bypass her anger. Personally I don’t think Helen ever stopped evolving into a better friend and person. If I had to define her most apparent change in her life, I would choose her transition from being uneducated to having the ability to communicate her thoughts and feelings.

Life is a very difficult experience. Yes, you can try and make it easy but overall it does not come easy at all. You have to work towards anything you want and put yourself out there to become apart of the experience it provides.

I never knew much about death. I didn’t understand what happened to someone. It was like they just disappeared into thin air, never to be heard from again. Almost like a character in one of my mystery novels. Only this time, there was no group of brothers or a crime-solving girl to look for clues and solve the case. It was probably because no one close to me has died when I was old enough to remember it. To this day, I’ve still never lost anyone very close to me.

The major loss that I think of that I have suffered in the past is when my dad died when I was three. Now I don’t really remember much from when he died but I know from what people have told me that I really wasn’t sure as to what was going on and really didn’t understand that my dad wasn’t going to be coming back home. I do remember from what I was told that I would cry a lot and say where’s daddy and why isn’t he coming home. Now that it is 16 years later I feel that I have changed from the person I was then to the person I am now. I know it’s easy to say I have changed because I was three when my dad’s death happened, but I do truly believe I have. I feel that I have changed because I am now able to fully understand what death is and what