The Best Days Of My Life

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

My grandma was a mother of three. She had my Aunt heather, Aunt Angie, and my mother. She raised my mother and Heather while going to college, which is a fight on its own, but to make it more difficult, she had hodgkins and had spent over an entire year fighting it in Iowa’s childrens hospital and held victory her senior year.. The chances of surviving hodgkins in the 60’s was around 75% and wasn’t the end for my Grandma, she lived to fight another day. Moving on in her life,She spent most of her time studying, she graduated high school on the top of her class, then going to college of hamilton for business. During that time, she had my mom and my Aunt Heather on the way.

I really enjoyed reading about your grandma. I too understand the love and respect that you cherish for her. I hope my grandpa and grandma live to 94 years or more. I too believe that it’s unfair for younger generations to forget about our elderly people. I sometimes repeat and emphasis on this so much because I have seen some assisted living homes where the elderly people are so sad that you can see in their face the desperation to talk or be love by someone. Defending the rights that elderly people have is sometimes misunderstood and completely taken advantage. It’s sad to see how many children do this to their family members. I couldn’t forget about my grandpa and grandma they play a big role in the women that I am today.

Everyone goes through rough patches in their life. Some of these patches are easy to accomplish and easy to get over. Our medicine has gotten better over time, but years ago the survival rate wasn’t that good. My grandma whose name is Linda is a breast cancer survivor and also survived with Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Not everyone in this world can say she has have survived cancer this many times, especially with such low survival rates. My Grandma still puts a smile on everyone faces even when she’s in pain. She makes all of her children and grandchildren beautiful quilts, so we can have something to remember her by, if something were to happen. She loves to bake. There isn’t one occasion that there won’t be some type of desert made by her. She has so many beautiful talents.

When I was younger, I grew up with four grandparents who I could spend time with. As I started to grow older, my grandparents started to deteriorate. My grandmother developed Alzheimer’s, and more specifically dementia. I remember one day at my beach house when I was talking to her, she asked me who I was because she couldn’t remember. She didn’t remember her own grandson. She started to lose all her memory and she had difficulty hearing and speaking. It got to a point where there was no way of communicating with her, and we wondered if she even knew who her own family was. She went through this deterioration for upwards of 5 years, and I it got to a point where I forgot what she was like before she developed the mental disease. I would watch

My grandmother’s parents immigrated to Johnstown, Pennsylvania from a small town in Poland close to Warsaw. As a young child she spoke two languages Polish at home and English when she went to school or with friends. Life started out very difficult and never really got any easier.. Her life continued to get worse when she lost her husband in a mining accident and her eldest son to a car accident. My grandma used to tell me the stories of their deaths, and how it taught her how strong she really is. She turned the hardships in her life into something beautiful, something joyous, and something sentimental. These moments shaped her into who she is, but they do not define her. These moments that she shares allow me to move on and find something joyful about every situation even if they are not be ideal. When my grandfather passed away my grandmother gave me the strength to look on the brighter side of the situation instead of the sad side.

My grandma had survived a hard life, and yet managed to raise four responsible, well-educated, and successful children. All this she did while working as a respected psychiatric nurse and a state mental health board member. Although she had had and was still overcoming trials in life, I always knew she would be there and cared about me and my life. As my brother and I grew older and were unable to visit my grandparents as often as we

I lived with my grandmother for the first half of my life. She practically raised me. Everyone in our village would talk about how much she spoiled me. She would go out of her way to get what I needed. One day I was playing with my friends, there was food in the house but I just wanted to eat snacks. I complained and whined about it until I got what I wanted she made my uncle go all the way into the city to buy me some snacks even though I could’ve just eaten what was in the house. She was a part of me. We had so much in common. My mom wasn't unable to raise me because she was living in America.

In October of 2016, my grandma passed away from a hard battle with cancer. My grandma was my rock, the person who always pushed me to be better, the person who was always encouraging me to keep going, and the person who inspired me the most. During the battle, I experienced a lot of adversity. Whether it was school or cross country meets, that feeling never seemed to go away.

My grandma, whom we call Lola, had always been an exceptional woman. As an immigrant from the Phillipines, she sought new, exciting things; which was present in New York City. Lola loved being in the moment and helping others. In the city, she worked as an entertainment manager for a nursing home. Her pleasure in bringing joy to a gloomy place was incredible. A loving grandma, she always found a way to commute to New Jersey to see my family and I. She always made my day with her witty jokes. Lola’s smile would illuminate the whole room the moment she walked in.

After multiple emergency room visits with her and my dad, she was admitted just days after our car ride. By this point, my beautiful, rosy haired, blue eyed grandmother had such unbearable pain in and around her abdomen, that it was hard to look at her without feeling the pain she was feeling. Despite the excrucaiting pain of the bladder cancer was slowly making her weaker and weaker, she pushed on. My grandmother was the toughest person I knew and there had been numerous events where she continued to show me and my entire family just how strong she was. Although she was the strongest person I have ever known, she was very fragil and ended up having to come stay with my family and I on hospice care. And throughout my journey with her living with us, I realized just how much we need to cherish every moment with the people that we love. From the days counting down towards her death, I felt as if I had never had done enough with her and that I would do anything to be

October 10th, 2013 at 7:30pm. The day of my grandma death. The day that changed my life forever. The day I will never forget. My grandma was my everything, she was the lady who raised me since I was born. I never had a mother or father, the only person who cared for me was my grandma. The day my grandma died I was in my senior year of high school and I had just came home from cheerleading practice. That was an unusual day for me because when I woke up that morning my grandma wasn't up cooking breakfast like she usually does she was in her bed asleep still. I looked outside and the sun was just rising. I went in her room that morning before I left for school and said these exact words, "Good morning grandma if you’re not feeling well, I could stay home with you and take you to the doctor." In a raspy low voice my grandma replied, "Good morning sweetie I'm okay I was just feeling a little sick this morning but I'm better now. You better get to school now before you are late.” Okay, Grandma Love you, call me if you need me", I replied. On my way to school all I thought about was why my grandma sounded like that this morning and how she wasn't up doing her normal routine. I have never seen my grandma get sick before. She was always the one taking care of me making sure I was okay. But I just pushed the feeling over just thinking my grandma was okay and I was just overthinking. I should've stayed home that day. I should've noticed that my grandma really was sick.

My grandmother, Esther Turner, has impacted my life in more ways than just simply being there for me, as a grandmother. She’s much more than that, in my eyes. Being the eldest of three, I’ve always taken on more responsibility as the older sister. It was my job to show my little brother and sister which paths were safe to take in this wild, confusing maze called life. At times, I felt like a mother myself, and at a young age, I found myself slightly intimidated by all the responsibilities that were laid on my shoulders. The main person I could talk to freely and openly, without judgment, was my grandmother. We have always been able to speak to each other about any and everything, nothing was off limits. That’s what I think brought us so close, the fact that she accepted me entirely for the person I presented to her.

Of course you always hear people talking about how great their grandmother or grandfather are, I too feel the same way about my grandmother. I see her as more than my grandmother, she’s a role mole, my best friend and also like a sister when I need her. She’s always been a loving and caring person. Not for only her friends and family, but also strangers. People she has never met a day in her life she would be willing to go give her last too. You don’t find to many people like her too often.