The Blessing Of My Grandma

My great-grandmother was the matriarch of my family. When I was in seventh grade, around thirteen years old, she passed away due to breast cancer. This misfortune created an extremely difficult time for me because, not only was I adjusting to the environment of junior high, but many other issues were occurring in my life; this was the third death that I was having to deal with. Unfortunately, one of the previous deaths (that I was still trying to hurdle through and come to terms with), had occurred almost exactly a year before the passing of my great-grandmother. The second death that I had gone through occurred only one or two months before my great-grandma has passed. All of this turmoil created numerous internal conflicts for me, but also taught me a key lesson to keep note of, for the rest of my life.

One night in January, I couldn't sleep and it was 4am and then out of the blue I got a call from my sister.. At first all I had was questions, “What do you mean his organs are shutting down?” And then she said it-- grandpa’s dying. She called telling me that our grandpa, who was battling cancer on and off for eight years,

When my dad came home that evening he sat me down and asked me if I knew what cancer was. I had an idea so I just nodded my head, he went on to tried to explain to me how bad the cancer was that my mom had been diagnosed with. Seeing my dad so afraid scared me. The fear I felt then led me to realize that I needed to try and hide it because it would only hurt my dad more to see his children so upset. I did my best to help, I tucked my little sisters into bed while my mom was away at the hospital, read them stories and did the best I could at preparing snacks to comfort them. After my mom arrived home and she recovered from the surgery she started chemotherapy. The miserable treatment that attacks the cancer also makes her very ill. Every other week she was sick. Before every bad week I wanted to cry, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Lane and Kenna already were crying, if I cried it could only hurt my parents

My dad picked me up from school that day. I felt really uncomfortable trying to ask if he had heard anything about my mom. He felt really uneasy and I knew something was up. I just thought that mom was hurt and he was trying not to alarm me. Once we got home he told me to “Sit down. I have important news to tell you.” I responded “Why do I have to sit down.” “Just do as I say” He said. I sat down pretty confused. “ Your mother is dead son. I knew how much you loved her and she meant to you.”He said. When I processed what he said my entire world came crashing

When I found out my aunt had breast cancer I was devastated because I thought of all of the things we used to do before she died. I remember when I was younger she would take care of me and my brother since my parents would be working or my mom would be at school. When me and my brother was younger she would drag my brother in the wagon and carry me in the wagon since I was smaller then my brother we would go up town and run erands with her we would go to the Piggly Wiggly so she can get groceries, To the drug store so she could get her medicine and the people that worked their would give us some candy everytime we went and we would go to Bonnies when it was open and get a cheese burger. When she would cook she would let me and my brother

When I got my family was around our wooden table. My dad on his soft voice said “ I don’t think your grandpa will go through one more night, you need to call him” he cried. I felt like I couldn’t do it, felt so week and a huge hole in my stomach, something I’ve never felt before, I grabbed the phone and when I was about to call, the phone ringed, I passed the phone to my dad, It was my aunt sobbing and barely able to speak, then she said “ he passed away, I’m sorry honey” I couldn’t believe it I didn’t even had the chance to say

But my aunt stepped up and helped and took the ‘’mother’’ role which helped out alot and made things better. Eventually we started to call her mom and looked at her as our mother since our mom was not there. A few years went passed and I was 13 years old. I get a phone call from a random number and when I answered it I was shocked because it was my mom on the other end of the phone. She broke the news that her sister died and she was catching a flight back here to attend the funeral and she wanted to see me and my brother. Me and my brother both agreed to spend time with her once she got off her flight and got to my grandmother’s house. Once she got home she had good news for me and my brother and that news was that she was staying home and she was not going back to

It all started with our family sitting at the dinner table with my mom crying, holding crumpled up tissues with black streaks of mascara on it. My dad nervous enough to say, “Your mom has stage four breast cancer.” Those words have stuck in my head clear as a bell for the last eight years. Our faces of curiosity soon turned into fear. As an eight year old I didn’t understand a lot of words grownups said, but those burning words were sharp knifes on my throat.

Back in 2010 the matriarch of my family, which would be my granny, was diagnosed with the terrible disease we call CANCER! No one in my family expected anything like this to happen, especially to her. But then again, who does expect this to happen to someone close to them? I do not believe for a second that anyone in this world is mentally, physically, nor emotionally prepared to be struck with this type of news about someone they love and care for. I know that myself nor my family were prepared to be told the devastating news.

After a while of sitting in my grandparents living room mindlessly playing with my toys I decided to get up. I walked towards the commotion going on in the small hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen. The gathering of people consisted of my mom, dad, grandpa, and grandma. Curious about what was going on I walked over to the group. I reached my mom and looked up to see that her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. I looked over to my dad and his face, like everyone else's, was grim. During this time I kept hearing one repeating word, cancer. I started to listen more closely to the conversation going on around me because even at the age of seven I knew that cancer was bad news. I listened intently and heard my mom explain how she had colon cancer.

The summer of 2005 was supposed to be great, I had survived my freshman year of college, and things were starting to get better until the phone rang at 2 AM on June 20th. All I could hear was my mom weeping. It was my uncle from India; he had phoned to let my mom know that her sister had been diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. My mom and I left for India the next day to be with her. For nearly nine months, my aunt complained of unremitting dull lower abdominal pain, lack of appetite, and unexplained weight gain. She was under the care of physicians at her local clinic regarding her health concerns; however, her case was not investigated thoroughly on time. My aunt and I were really close and seeing her spirit and body so broken down

In October of my sophomore year, my mother sat me down on our couch and told me she had breast cancer. My mother has a habit of spinning terrible news to sound like casual conversation. She said that we would go into this optimistic, hoping for something small or easily handled. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with stage three malignant phyllodes tumors in her right breast. Hearing this, I was devastated. My mother had recently been recovering from a car accident in which she was a pedestrian hit by a speeding vehicle. We had finally finished the multiple surgeries necessary to fix her lower spine, left shoulder, and pelvis. It felt as though we had just come out of that. It seemed unreal that we would have two physical tragedies so close

It all started about 6 years ago over the summer; I have been staying with my grandmother and my older sister for about a month, and during that time, we were always happy and having fun, my grandma was completely healthy for someone her age always in a happy mood and active. I remember one day we were walking outside talking about what we wanted to do or be when we grow up. As we were walking around her garden, she started complaining about her chest hurting so I offered to go and get her some water. I ran inside and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and ran back to her, I saw her sitting on a bench clutching her chest, she tried to stand up but she almost fell over. My sister and I rushed to her side and walked back to the house when, we got inside we yelled for our aunt to come down stairs and told her what had happen. After that, I do

I was driving home from my uncle's cabin by the boundary water up north with him my grandma and my two younger cousins, about an hour in my grandma got a phone call and started crying and i heard her talking about my mom and some sort of brain injury, once she got off the phone about 15 minutes later she told me what happened to her and that she had a brain aneurysm she explained what it was because I had no idea what that was and how bad it could be, after she told me what it was I could not help but look it up on my phone and that was a horrible decision because the first thing that I saw that it was a 50% death rate, after I saw that I could not help but start crying and thinking what would happen if my mom would die. The last 5 hours of that car ride felt like forever. When I got to the hospital later that day, I saw my whole family there and my moms friend that were there when it happened, My dad said she was going through surgery right when i got there.

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.