Why Do You Think Tristan Is A 22-Year-American

The day Luther was supposed to come home was like the past two days: after the dismissal of school, I would go to cross country practice. Grandma would then pick me up and take me home. When I got in the car after practice, Grandma’s facial expression told me that something was wrong, causing the air to strip from my lungs, dropping my stomach to my toes. She informed me that Luther had been taken by ambulance to St. Mary’s in Rochester. Instead of going home, we drove to see him and Mom. The ride to Rochester was a slow blur. Trying to work on homework was useless as constant thoughts about Luther flowed into my mind. When we arrived at St. Mary’s, we went straight to the NICU, where Luther was admitted. Tears filled my eyes when I saw the many chords that were connected to his little body that led to machines that I had never seen before. Mom explained to us what was going on, but I still didn’t grasp the concept that, lying in that little bed, was my baby brother. As an older sister, I felt helpless, knowing that he was going through more pain then I could ever imagine. We stayed for a couple hours, then Grandma took us home. We continued to return to Rochester every day to visit Luther and Mom.

“I don’t feel so well” Jan’s father had suddenly said one morning at breakfast. Her father, a World War II veteran, stood up and went to go lie down. The rest of the family continued with their day. Michael went to see how his father was. When he tried to wake him his father didn’t respond or make a sound. The 11 year old boy was the one who first knew that his father was gone. The memory of her father’s loss is vivid in Jan’s mind. It was a substantial shock after he had survived the horrors of World War II and then just passed away quietly at home one morning. Jan now understands how

Taylor Has been through a lot her grandfather died and so did her uncle, he died at the age of 29. She never had the chance to say how much she loved them. She always thought “What if I had said something, anything, What if I had the chance to change his outcome but I didn’t, I did nothing I just let it happen.” Now she is afraid of losing her grandmother that would be the end of the 4th of July parties, the christmas get-togethers, the Easter parties, and swimming in her lake when it's burning hot in the summer. But what breaks her heart the most is that her father has cancer. Taylor’s father mean the world to her, He means everything.

Have you ever felt so broken and lost that you believed you simply couldn’t keep going on in life, as if the barriers of your life caved in and suffocated the very existence in which you lived? This pain was all that I knew in the months following my grandfather’s loss to cancer in July of 2008. Fighting until his dying breath, it was a moment in my life that rocked and shattered my heart like fragile glass. His death required me to adapt to and appreciate life and showed me that no obstacle is to big overcome if you maintain hope and a positive outlook.

Lori and Scotty came to my childhood home to pick up me and my mother up. They were on their way to a doctor’s appointment for Scotty. They were worried because my half-brother was lethargic, weak, and seemed to have the flu or a cold over and over again. At this age I was unclear on what was going on and or how serious it was that he was sick all the time. All I knew was that the adults, mainly his mother, were extremely concerned about him. To me everything was the same he still looked like any other almost four year old child with his puppy dog brown eyes and soft dark curls that had never been cut. Scotty was such a happy little boy and His happiness was infectious. The smile on his face spread from his face to mine like the

“Your grandfather has lung cancer and it’s late stage.” I recalled my father telling me. I was particularly close to my grandfather as he helped raise me. I wished I could be by his side, but I was thousands of miles away. Two years earlier, my mother decided to move to New York and my life as I know it changed forever .The extent of my vocabulary back then didn’t extend much further beyond “hello” and “goodbye”. I can see people talking to me, but no matter how hard I try, I can't understand anything that was said. My parents were too busy to help me, but my grandfather would call me every night. He spent hours encouraging me to keep learning and reassuring me I would quickly adjust. I would not have survived, and eventually thrived here in America without his neverending support. Yet, in his hour of need, there was nothing I could do to help. Learning

A blurred figure is in my direct vision, as hushed prayers and frequent sobs filled the silence. The mood has faltered from the days early on that were so full of cheerfulness and life. Unlike that day, it was falling negatively towards an everlasting sleep for someone whom I deeply cared about. Safoe Watson Jr was lying against a hospital bed that had been planted within his own home more than a couple of days before that day, breathing slower and slower every few minutes. I stood there, next to my younger sibling, reminiscing in memories to past the time. Not only did those memories overwhelm me, but the gut punching feeling of guilty and regret hit me, feeling as if it knocked me out of breath. The regret lingers, thinking of my young years whilst in my grandpa’s long, well-lived life. My thumbs fumbled and played together as time continued to pass, and as I continued to drown myself in unwelcomed self-pity, I remember.

Late night phone calls never end well, and this one was no exception. My mom answered the shrill ring of the landline early one Wednesday morning and was greeted by her sisters solemn voice. Aunt Mary told her that their mother wasn’t able to swallow food anymore; an obvious problem that had all the more meaning to her. Barely a month before, grandma’s sister, my Great Aunt Maureen, after a long period of declining health, quickly passed away after loosing her ability to swallow. It seemed that grandma would follow her sister’s example. Mom hung up the phone, the weight of the world settling around her shoulders, and booked a flight for the small Irish town she grew up in.

American writer Mark Twain stated, “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” My grandpa wasn’t necessarily ready to bid farewell to those he loved at the time of his death, but there’s no doubt he lived everyday to the fullest. Growing up in a struggling family during the Depression, Eugene “Mickey” Hingtgen always made the most of what he had. At the age of fifty one, he became one of the first one hundred people in Dubuque to have open heart surgery. With six children and a stay at home wife, he nearly passed away at this young age. After a successful surgery, my grandpa drastically changed his everyday life. Becoming health conscious aided him to live to be eighty-eight years old. Throughout my entire life, my grandpa was there for me to celebrate my accomplishments and encourage me in times of adversity. The joy he found in his grandchildren yielded me to foster unforgettable memories with my grandpa. In the last few years before his passing, I saw my grandpa’s health begin to dwindle. Every time it seemed like he had reached his demise, he’d garner a miraculous recovery that shocked our entire family. This lasted until he faced his final battle that proved to be unconquerable. Never before had I experienced a loss of a person that played such a large role in my life. The experiences I confronted while being beside my grandpa during his final days have inspired me and left me with a full heart. The death of

Almost three years ago, Lauren sat down at the edge of the bed her beloved father was lying in. She was surrounded by her aunt and step mom. Lauren was not prepared to hear what was going to be said, her father had been sick for a couple of weeks. He 'd been coughing and had little energy, but she realized how busy her life was that she barely noticed any of it. She had, had many problems at school and other issues around her that made her lose focus of the ones that mattered the most.

“Hello, and good evening,” Gregg began, “I would like to thank everyone for taking time to come here, and celebrate the life of my father, Patrick Norman.” Gregg paused as he looked down to see what he would move onto next, “My father was the busiest person I ever knew. He spent hours on end working for the company that he started and was fortunate enough to have it take off. It was his dream to live with class and to not have to worry about food or disease.” Gregg paused once more letting the tension build. He looked away from his paper, not needing it anymore and deciding to instead speak from the heart, “However, not everything worked out. My mother died an early age, and my father soon realized with her gone, he not only had to work the company, but had to take care of three boys by himself. But that didn’t stop him. My father was able to manage taking care of us and the company. He sacrificed time from work to help us with school work and made sure we were always doing our best.” Gregg began to tear up from all the emotion, “He did everything he could to make sure I would be ready to take his place when the time came,” he looked down to Steve and Richard and

At the age of nine my parents sat me down to discuss Grandpa’s last visit to the doctor. He had become the rule instead of the exception and had been diagnosed with lung cancer. How could this have happened after all that I had accomplished with him, heroes are not supposed to lose. Confusion and hopelessness were the emotions I felt at the time because failure to prevent cancer seemed to inevitably lead to a failure to beat it. There was no game to play that could cure my Grandfather once cancer had arrived.

My grandfather, also known as Peepaw, was diagnosed with stomach cancer almost three months before he died the following summer. As a lawyer, he remained intelligent, sympathetic, and always dressed his best. While visiting him as a family, we strung beans harvested by my cousin, filled ourselves with the food of the south, and cared for our horses. My grandfather wasn’t a very open person, so I didn’t spend as much time with him throughout my life as I would have preferred. When visiting him, I was pleased to spend time with him; however, it was frightening seeing him underweight and suffering. Pulling me in for a hug, he mumbled, “I love you.” Tears turned into joy as I left Kentucky knowing him better and having the opportunity to express how much he truly means to me. He was a great man, who I can confidently say I took for granite. I learned more about him the more time I spent with him.

was thinking about the stuff I needed to bring from home when suddenly, a coughing sound caught my attention. Feeling contented, I threw a quick glance at my father. To my disappointment, he was still on his bed motionless with only his chest faintly moving up and down. The continuous wheezing noise that he was making clearly revealed his breathing difficulty. I felt dejected. It hurt me to see him in this much pain.

One morning, the old thin women awoke; she slightly lifted her lips up and smiled. Pressing her palm against the newspapers on the floor that she use to sleep on, she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. Such a great bed, she thought and looked around; there’s a chair, a table and on top of the table, there’s a picture of a little boy with a word saying, “April, 19.” As soon as she saw the picture, she turned around and look at the calendar and whispered, “Two days left?” As she look around, with dirt all over the place (including on her bed) the roof is falling apart and the big hole in it causes the rain to come through. She quickly grab a bucket to catch the rain- Tap, tap, tap; she listens to the sounds of raindrop, one by one. Suddenly, her mouth opened- her hand quickly rises to cover her mouth, and she coughed. There was a blood on her hand. She has stage four lung cancer. Her doctor, the brave