Reflection Paper On Thanksgiving Day

We waited for a good hour for the doctor to come out and give us the news the doctor finally came out and told us she wasn't going to make it and she only had two weeks to live I was devastated i didn't know what to think or how to act me and my mom both broke down in tears I asked if I could go back and see her the doctor said “yes of course you can” we went back there and saw that was grandma was sleeping we stayed there for a couple of hours waiting for her to wake up but she did and she asked me if I had the book he read to me everynight I replied “yes it’s under my pillow were I always keep it” she told me to bring it the next time i come back. We went home, I lost my appetite so i went to bed. The next afternoon, my mom took me to see my grandma, I brought the book she asked me to bring to her my mom and I sat there with my grandma all day when it struck nine o'clock my grandma asked me to read the book to her that she always reads to my every night at nine o’clock we play a game we called beat the time we would try to finish the book before a certain time we never beat it until the day

My grandfather's dementia had gotten worse with age. He had developed a habit of walking out of the house randomly. They lived alone in their apartment in Pakistan. One day he walked out the same way and did not return for a long time. We were later informed that he had tripped on his way and broke his hip. After surgery my grandmother called me, I was living abroad at that time, and said, "I don't think he will recover, he is in a lot of pain" I assured her otherwise. She said, "I can't live without him. I don’t want him to die." The helplessness and grief in her voice was agonizing. She would often call and cry, it became tough overtime as I was abroad and not fully aware of his progress. I am her oldest grandchild, and she treats me like

My grandma was my superhero with her genial personality and her ability to give you her full, undivided attention in order to listen to whatever you had to say. It was always my dream to be able to share both my high school and college graduation with both my parents and grandma and being able to later pay them all back for all their sacrifices. Towards the beginning of my sixth-grade year my grandma became unexpectedly sick and as months passed her health slowly began to deteriorate until she fell into a vegetative comatose for the next four years. My grandma’s sudden illness came as an unexpected surprise which leads to my mom and her family having to take turns in order to care for my grandma throughout her extensive hospital visits and inhome medical care. Throughout those four years both my emotional and mental health took a hit as I tried my best to learn how to deal with her sudden illness and the fact that my mom was rarely home because she was either in the hospital or at my grandma’s house in order to help take care of

It 's a tradition that my moms side of the family come to my grandmas house for Thanksgiving. The cool air and falling leaves is a sign of fall and Thanksgiving is my least favorite holiday. I don’t like my cousins very much and I 'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual. Thanksgiving is not that cheerful for me. Years ago at Thanksgiving, I was not excited for it, just like every other year. My grandmas basement is very much underground and quite dark without the lights on. My cousins were running around the basement playing around. I started to try to scare them by hiding and popping out saying "Boo!". Evening approached and the moon starts to come out of hiding and the night starts to set in. It’s a cool night outside and the sun starts to

My grandma became a big part of my life and no one can ever replace her or all the things she has taught me. Then, just a few years ago, I heard something that still haunts me to this day.

For the fifth time that night, I walked over to my mom’s bed to see if she was breathing. I felt the relief wash over me when I saw that she was breathing. She had started to slur her words after dinner around six thirty. Judging by my past experiences this meant she popped a handful of her usual pills around quarter to six. There was nothing out of the ordinary for me in the situation. This was every day life for me, the years leading up to my first year of high school. I was fourteen, and I had been taking care of her from what felt like the time I could walk. Little did I know that would be the last night I had to wake up in twenty-minute increments to check on her. When morning came my bags are being packed, confused I asked what was going on? My aunt walked in to the living room and simply said, “you will be living with me.” Just a short phrase changes my life forever on a day I’ll never forget. It was in the

As a young girl, I remember knowing that something about my grandmother was not right. Visits to grandma’s house were not spent being spoiled or doted over by grandma but listening to my dad and mom try to rationalize with her delusions. I remember my dad having to drive over to grandma’s house to meet police officers because “those people” were there and the police advising they would no longer respond to her calls. As a teenager, I once accompanied her to a doctor’s appointment in hopes of making him aware of her problem, as if he didn’t know. I begged him to help her, at which time I learned she had been diagnosed as schizophrenic years before.

My family for a while now, knew of my grandma's illness, Alzheimer's. We visited her every year in LA before she passed away, thinking that it would happen soon. A few years passed, and we planned to visit her one last time. On our way to LA to visit her, we heard some tragic news from my aunt who took care of my grandma. She

This time, my grandma didn't wake up as fast, it took medics a long time to get her partially stable and it was forced by my mother that she was going to the hospital on the ambulance. My mom, Aunt Penny, and I frantically following in the van driven during my childhood. As we ran into the hospital I couldn’t help but be scared because I didn’t fully grasp what was going on, I just knew my grandma was very sick. My grandma was my rock and I hated seeing her

“Do you have any history of heart disease?” the cardiologist asked my grandma at her first appointment. “No,” she replied. Fortunately my mom quickly interjected. “Mama you have hypertension!” I could not believe it. My grandma sincerely did not know that her high blood pressure was heart disease. Her and her friends almost treat it as a right of passage. Just as they discuss who’s next to retire or have great grandchildren, they discuss who’s next to get high blood pressure. On her 75th birthday two of my grandma’s friends approached the table where I was serving marble cake. When it was their turn to be served, one of the women said, “Now we’re not supposed to be eating this because of our “sugar,” but give us a both a small piece.” The

Today, Grandma turns eighty four. My parents and I walk through her front door and instantly the familiar smell of orchids fills the air. Through the crowd of aunts, uncles, and cousins, I spot my Grandma, five feet tall and exceptionally well dressed. I walk over and give her a big hug and kiss. After a series of hellos and how are yous, we all make our way toward the big blue couch and plop ourselves down. We orient ourselves around her, like elephants gathering around the wise matriarch of the herd. We listen as she reads, In My Own Words- Helen’s Memoir, out loud. She scans the room and sees her six children and thirteen grandchildren gathered around her tiny living room. With a youthful voice that doesn’t match her eighty

My grandma began to scold my sister for not being grateful that she actually had gotten something for Christmas, while many other kids in the world don’t even have one Littlest Pet Shop toy. My grandma stops scolding my sister and tears begin to roll down her eyes. She looks to my Dad and brings up how it’s all her fault that they couldn’t afford it. My Dad reassures her that it isn’t, but she doesn’t believe him and wipes her tears from her eyes quickly, so the children don’t see that she is upset. Little did I know, this was my last Christmas in my home.

I will always cherish my favorite memories with my great-grandma. They include making tamales on Christmas Eve, watering her beautiful garden, and reading a book while she would sew. From this experience I learned to cherish lives simple things, that nothing is permanent, and most importantly I learned the importance of being there for someone who has suicidal thoughts. I wish I could’ve been there for my great-grandma and just maybe I could’ve enjoyed her company for a few

At the age of fifteen, I knew I wanted to walk my own path. I was very close to my grandparents when I was younger and we did everything together. On December 11, 2008 my grandmother was coming to the end of a long hard fight with ovarian cancer. A hospice, Julie, was always in the house checking my grandmother’s conditions as she was in a coma. On this particular night I remember Julie taking my grandpa into the kitchen and him running up the stairs after she came out. I knew that this represented bad news for our family. Julie sat at my grandmother’s bed side with me through the night. She comforted me as I was mourning the passing of my grandmother. How Julie was able to balance her care for me and my grandmother that night was amazing. Julie gave me hope and reminded me that I would always have my grandmother in my heart.

In 2003, the Warner family only went to church on important holidays. But after my grandmother’s death, we would be visiting church for a different reason. My family visited her house the evening of her death. We saw where she stayed in the last room on the left. I remember the old clock with roman numerals that I did not understand as a young child and the organ that had recently replaced the grandfather clock—that scared me every hour it rang. On top of that organ, she placed her collection of glass dolls, a candle, and a few pictures that represented how small our family was. There was also a picture of my grandfather (who I never met), because he had given my grandmother and my own mother a great life. I remember grandma explaining how