Essay Of My Grandmother

My Grandmother Essay
My grandma or as we grandchildren call her, Paw–Paw (which in Chinese means your mother's
mother) is an amazing lady and let me just tell you a great cook too. She is a lady with a big
personality and so much caring in her soul. She takes care of us when we need something or if we
just want someone to hangout with. My grandma is one great person and anyone who meets her
can easily figure that out. She is my grandma, friend, and one of my biggest role models as she had
to travel across the world to come to the United States. She cares, she cooks, she hugs, and she loves.
When my grandma was a teenager, she had to embark a journey that most would fear to do. She
traveled half–way across the world from China to America on a boat the size of...show more content...
Now when I hug my grandma, it's familiar and feels like home. Her small arms around me, with
her painted sparkling nails that match her personality so well. Whenever she sees one of the
grandchildren her small eyes light up and become big. She waves at us, with a big smile, in the
distance while walking fast to come give us a hug. Along with the big hug, you get a big kiss on
the cheek that often leaves a pink stain behind. When my parents would go on a trip my brother
and I would get to have awesome sleepovers at my grandparents house. I would get to pick the
movie and snacks, then we would lay in her bed and just talk about everything. Then in the morning
I would wake up to the best eggs ever.
Now think of the best fried rice you've ever had and multiply that by about 10, that's how good my
grandma's fried rice is. My family and I make it all the time but it is never as good as hers. Not
only is the fried rice good so are all the other dishes; birthday noodles, chives and pork, and New
Years Eve dumplings. And the smell, it consumes all rooms of the house and makes you so
excited for your meal. My grandparents favorite restaurants include Lings Buffet, Mei Wei, and
Cici's Pizza (yes, all buffets, which none of us complain about because they are all so good). But, the
best food is her own especially if it is cooked in the wok. So many meals have been cooked in the
original wok favors, like soy sauce and meat, from past meals come through and
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Descriptive Essay About My Grandmother
My grandma has always been my best friend ever since I could speak.Saturday was the best day of
the week. We walked into Steak and Shake, while the smell of grease filling our noses. We would
chat about anything as we waited for our food, but we didn't order milkshakes. After that, we
went right across the street to Coldstone, and I got a cotton candy ice cream with gummy bears.
The ice cream was sweet and creamy. We moved over to Starbucks where coffee and we talked
with my aunt about anything you could imagine. Then, we left in my grandma's small red car with
no music, just laughter and memories that will last forever. Things changed as I aged and my
cousin were born, but we were still best friends. When I was upset I called her, when I...show more
content...
I kept my composure until I realized she would never be the same.
The next day my mom and I visited her in the ICU. Her normally wrinkly olive skin, was this pale
white. Her blue eyes that usually shimmered with life were now this dull midnight blue. This
amazing women was so lifeless and confused. Five minutes passed and I needed to leave. The
waiting room was filled with anxious people, just as worried for their loved ones. My grandpa
who is usually filled with life was filled with anxiety. My uncle, who is this strong no emotion kind
of guy, was hurting. You could see it in his eyes, wishing he spent more time with her or said
something different. As his look was the same as mine.
I sat away from everybody and my mind was trying to focus on different things. I wanted to be
isolated where nobody could talk to me or see me in this state of vulnerability. My uncle and
grandpa tried to talk to me, but they knew it was no use. My mom returned and I was whining, I
just wanted to leave. Leave all of the guilt, devastation behind in this hospital and wake up with my
grandma still being my best friend. That didn't happen. I woke up and it was a Sunday. My mom
went back to the hospital, but I stayed home,I couldn't go back after seeing her like that.
About a week later she moved into another hospital room. She started speaking again but more words
than sentences. My whole family visited her. Cramming in a small room that smelled of sickness.

My grandmother was a tough lady.
At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move
out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, crissВcrossing over
her thin, frail fingers.
I remember holding her hands as a child, how delicate and soft they seemed and yet that never
made them seem any less worn or sturdy. Her hands told stories of different times, of different
worlds and hardships. She had grown up worlds away from me, in a different land, at a different
time, in an era and a life that I would never know.
My grandmother had stories.
But, she never told stories. Her stories were in the way she ate – she savored her food, cherished it.
Often she would be...show more content...
She was seldom outwardly affectionate. She didn't need to be. When I wrapped my arms around
her small frame, afraid I would break her, she responded with a strength disproportionate to her size.
She held tightly, like she was holding on for dear life, and then she let go, she smiled and she
moved on.
My grandmother was an intelligent woman.
She had little schooling, but she had run businesses. She had managed on her own, with a husband
and sons, in a country that didn't care for her or her culture, but only for their aggrandized version
of it. Her experiences were rightful cause to be jaded and hard, and yet she saw brightness and she
saw brightness in me. She saw the great things in life, she loved hard and appreciated the little things
– us going for a walk together or just sitting in the sun on a warm day.
My grandmother's stories were in her complaints.
My grandmother complained about petty things: things that I would complain about. But she never
complained about life and she never complained about pain.
My grandmother had developed a brain tumor, which when removed, removed much of her
immediate memory. For a long time, she didn't remember my name. She had no idea who I was. But
she tried and she learned.
She understood perseverance and the importance of people and she carried on against all odds. The
last time I spoke to her, she knew exactly who I was, despite

My Life Of My Grandmother
My Grandmother died a couple months ago. It wasn 't a sudden thing. It was a long time coming. I
was standing in the kitchen with my dad when he picked up the phone. He frowned, flicked his
eyes to me, to my mother then back to me. He mumbled some confirmations then said, "That 's fine.
I'll be there shortly, thank you." He set the phone down on the table, and just briefly, I think I caught
a fleeting glimpse of a smile.
I had known she was sick. My dad had mentioned it briefly, as if it was just a small thing not really
worth talking about. It was just like reporting the morning's news. But instead of, "Oh, the Reds lost
again" it was, "Your grandmother is in the hospital. She isn 't doing too well." I'm not sure that he
even looked up...show more content...
I had expected long days of walking on eggshells, giving my father space and time to grieve. I had
expected an excessive breakfast the morning after, with stacks of pancakes, orange juice, coffee.
The works. I had expected my Father to be stuffing his face, smiling, pretending everything was all
right, only to breakdown with syrup on his face and jam on his fingers. What I got was oatmeal,
and a dad who looked well rested if not little distracted.
I knew my dad and grandmother were not on speaking terms. That much was always known and
not hidden from me. But I thought...I don't know. I thought there might have been something
when she died. I just expected more, I guess. When he came home from the morgue or wherever
he had to go to after the call, I was in the living room and looked over my shoulder when the front
door creaked open. My mom came up and embraced him, he put his head on her shoulders and
they just stood there, barely swaying in the foyer. I got up and walked over to them. My mom drew
away, teary eyed, and my dad looked at me. "You're my proof, Cole." He said with a small quiver in
his voice. "You're my proof that something good can come from my bloodline." He smiled and
hugged me, longer than he ever has before. My mother joined in and then my dad called, "Eddie!
Come down here!"
My younger brother came from his room at the top of the stairs and frowned at our group, hugging
at the bottom. "Come here, kid." My dad said in his sandy, old

Memories Of My Grandmother
t was the moment I had been waiting months for. The comforting aromas of bread and tea met my
nose the instant I stepped through the doorway. Beautifully–written, thought–provoking books sat on
the shelves, waiting to be read while soft strains of celtic lullabies floated through the halls.
Excitedly, I bolted up the entryway steps to the arms of some of the most meaningful people in my
life– Bumma and Boppy. I remember a time when Bumma and I stood in her herb garden in the
backyard. As we discussed stories and memories of the past, I pondered what exactly made that
moment so special to me. Yes, their house and garden were beautiful, and I loved to spend time
with my various grandparents, but this particular setting had always been different. As I called my
grandmother over to look at a certain flower, it clicked. That silly nickname I had given her when I
was young had cultivated and blossomed, attaching itself to memories and emotion, and becoming a
firm foundation in my life. Of course I love all my grandparents and relatives, but the ones that I
have special nicknames for certainly hold a place in my heart. The times spent with my nicknamed
companions are often, to me, the most beautiful and lasting. It's like pairing a memory to music or a
certain smell– that event tends to stick in one's brain more so than the mundane regulatory of others.
One of my best friends and I have some of the craziest, most memorable experiences. It should be no
surprise that her

Biography Of My Grandmother
My grandmother, Kathy A Gerdes was born March 10, 1947 and has done many great things in
her life. She excelled in everything because she is very strong and determined to do things.
Growing up, I was always with her and watching her do things which is why I look up to her. It
wasn't until she moved in with us until I got to have a strong relationship and get to see the kind
loving person she is. This biography portrays what she has accomplished and how she is loving
and strong. As a child, my grandma had a very simple life even though her parents were strict. She
grew up in New Prague, Minnesota, by the old creamery. She had 3 siblings, Rosie, Roman, and
Tony. They are all older than her and each sibling is about 10 years apart. Her dad owned a barber
shop and her mom was stay at home. My grandma had to do many chores around the house
including dishes, cleaning, garden work, shoveling snow, and many other things. She was always
expected to do her chores for the day after school or she would be in trouble. Her parents were very
conservative catholics. Her family had to go to church every Sunday and they didn't have a choice if
they wanted to go or not.
Kathy had many memories as a child. She loved to play outside all of the time. She played things
like hide n' seek, ring around the frypan, Jacks, and marbles with shooters. She played many guy
sports like football and basketball because she always played with boys that lived around her. She
also loved to go ice skating. My

Caring For My Great-Grandmother Essay
Life experiences, rewarding or difficult, are the factors that influence us. My great grandmother
has always been one of my key role models. I have always admired her independence, strong will,
and caring nature towards all. For many years, she proudly lived by herself and independently took
care of herself. At seventeen years old, she became very ill. When she became exceedingly sick, my
family realized that someone needed to incessantly be with her, so my family and I moved into my
great grandmother's home to bestow quality care and make her comfortable. Living at my great
grandmother's home for the last six months of her life was the most emotionally and physically
difficult experience I have ever had to endure or deal with, but it was...show more content...
I despised that she had lost her ability to be autonomous, one of the fundamental characteristics that
made her who she was, but I had to learn how to deal with it.
Though I was affected emotionally and physically, I learned an important lesson that I used to
deal with the anxiety of providing care for my great grandmother and plan to use throughout my
nursing career: Use your emotions to empower you to perform the physical tasks that need to be
performed in order for the patient to sustain a state of comfort. Though it would be
psychologically demanding to take care of someone who you are slightly emotionally attached
to, it would be more emotionally complex to take care of someone who you have been
emotionally attached to since the beginning of your existence. Since I was very emotionally
attached to my great grandmother, it made the situation more problematic for me, yet it also made
me a better person. When my family recognized that we were medically needed to facilitate my
great grandmother, I was frightened at first because I knew I would be one of the primary
caregivers living with her. At first, I was alarmed over the thought of taking care of someone I
significantly loved and admired because I would be watching them suffer constantly, yet I did not let
this hinder me. I learned to use my feelings for her to enable and strengthen me mentally to
implement the somatic and mental tasks that are required in

Every day was a struggle. Every morning, every night. Every second I would ask myself one
single question would my grandpa be alright? It all started with our annual trip to California.
Every summer, my family and I take a trip to Sacramento to spend time with my grandparents. We
always have a good time and I can't imagine doing anything else during my summer. Eating out,
watching movies, and spending quality time with Simran and my grandparents, is overall,
without a doubt, my favorite thing to do. I've always had a certain connection to my grandpa, or
as I used to call him, my nana. I can't explain why, but my grandpa was the shoulder I would cry
on. He was the one person I could rely on to always be there, because he always was. I knew I
could count on him. It was a sunny day, way too sunny. I woke up to the bright, shining California
sun. The birds were chirping, the trees were swaying, the flowers were blooming, and the grass
was greener than ever. It felt like a good day, it really did. I even believed it was a good day for a
second. However, I was snapped back into reality when I heard my grandma, or my nani, sobbing
in the other room. Oh, how reality can suck you in. In the split of a second, your best moments
can turn into your worst. Your smile can turn into a frown. Your nani, one of the strongest people
ever, could be sobbing. "Nani, are you ok?" I asked. She turned to look at me with tears streaming
down her face. I had never seen my nani cry. She wrapped

Personal Narrative: My Grandmother Essay
I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be
something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly
years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great
faith and character, she is my grandmother. Mary Imogene Cothren was born in Lawrenceburg
Tennessee, November 12, 1929 to George and Chapel Cothren. Her family then relocated to a small
town in Ohio by the name of Ashland. This is where she was raised and has lived most of her life.
From the time she was born, although her name was Mary Imogene her family called her Imogene.
When Imogene was five her mother became pregnant with a little girl. The...show more content...
Imogene to this day likes to go visit Shirley's tomb stone and think of all the memories they could
have made together. Eight years later George and Chapel gave birth to another daughter Barbara
Cothren. Imogene and Barbara were close growing up. Even though there was an eight year age
difference they both had a lot of fun together. They were raised at 1215 Myers Avenue in Ashland
Ohio and attended Grant Street Elementary School. Some of Imogene's favorite memories were at
this house, playing outside with Barb without a care in the world.
The Cothren's were a very God based family. George and Chapel raised their girls in a Godly
household and expected much discipline out of their daughters. Surprisingly though, Imogene did
not except the Lord until 1946 when she was sixteen years old. She discussed in her interview that
she accepted the Lord on Palm Sunday at a revival at her church, West Tenth Street Brethren
Church. At first she wouldn't go forward because she was planning on being baptized the following
Sunday and felt that wasn't right to just now be excepting Christ. The pastor then took her aside and
he told her it didn't matter the Lord wanted her no matter what the circumstance, it didn't matter.
This was the beginning of a very God based life for Imogene. She took her faith very seriously and
knew how important her relationship with her Savior was.
Church was a place of many great memories for Imogene. She accepted Christ early enough in her

Descriptive Essay About My Grandma
Some adults experience new responsibilities and challenges in life when they encounter a loss; I
encountered this as a child. The year was 2014 and it was the hardest year of my life. It was a
beautiful, sunny day on August 3; however this day was a tragic one that I will never forget. Some
think of their grandma as just a relative; mine was my other half, my best friend, my hero, and I
could never be the same without her. This depressing event affected me greatly, and now it is
difficult for me to live my life without her. My new responsibilities were devastating and
challenging, but if it meant helping my grandma, I would have done anything. Those times were
lovely with her, but now I must take on the responsibilities of my mother, and...show more content...
I will always treasure those valuable times that I spent with her, but day by day, I noticed how she
started to communicate less with me. I eventually had an idea that she wasn 't doing well.
Eventually, I found out that she got diagnosed with cancer. I got a call from my mom, she had
explained to me what cancer is, and that my grandma had it. My mom never came home that
night for some reason. Instead, she called to say she loved me, to keep the house clean, and take
care of my sisters while she was at the hospital with my grandma, and while my dad was at work. I
had to prepare dinner for my family, take care of my pets, help my little sister with homework, and
keep the house clean. These were the new responsibilities that I had to take care of. I didn 't think
that a ten year old girl could be responsible of these types of things, but I was, and my family
counted on me. While my dad was always at work, it was hard for me to take on these new
challenges in my life, but it makes me work that much harder, knowing what she was going
through. I tried to visit her every chance that I could, so that I could talk with her, but she wasn 't
the same. I would always come into her bedroom, and she could barely get the words out. This
made my heart heavy, and I would cry during these tragic moments. My mom, being a nurse, would
help her every day, and my family would come visit her in the hospital. We would bring cards and

Grandparents are an essential part of a family. My grandmother was a very important part of my
life from the beginning. I could always count on her to listen to me from her heart, share her
wisdom and lend a shoulder to cry on. She taught me many important lessons throughout our lives
together. My grandmother meant the world to me. She was the most beautiful lady in the world.
She was short and her heart was the biggest size. My grandmother was like a parent to me and she
loved me in the same unconditional way as my mother did. Whenever I needed something I knew I
could count on her. She was like my friend, my mom, my everything. Imagine waking up to what
should be a normal day in my life only to find out my grandmother had been rushed to...show more
content...
I asked my mom what was going on with grandma and she told me that they were waiting for the
doctors to come in and tell them what was going on. While waiting for my mom to call me back,
I didn't know what to do. I had plenty of positive and negative thoughts running through my head.
I tried holding the tears back and tried having faith that it was nothing major. I was praying and
asking God to please let my grandmother be okay. My mind was all over the place. My mother
finally called me back and told me that the doctors did some tests on her and found out she had a
stroke, so the ambulance took her to Mobile. It felt like my heart shattered after hearing that. I
started crying and wondering what will happen next. I had thoughts in my head about what will I
do if I lose my grandmother. My life will be upside down because she was the one with me through
thick and thin. When the ambulance took my grandmother to Mobile Infirmary and did some more
tests the doctors found out one side of her brain was swollen.
My family and I took a trip to Mobile Infirmary. We had cars full headed to Mobile. The drivers had
their emergency lights on and each driver was following each other one behind the other. It did
not take us long to get to Mobile because each driver was speeding since it was an emergency. I was
in the back seat of the car just holding on because they were driving wild by passing every vehicle
on the highway. When we arrived in Mobile we

Essay on My Grandmother
My Grandmother
This poem explores the relationship between the speaker and her grandmother. It focuses on the
remorse and guilt she felt – and perhaps does still feel – about the way she behaved towards her on
one occasion, and can be seen as an attempt to exorcise this.
The poem is divided into four parts: the first stanza describes her grandmother working in the shop;
the second the incident which causes her guilt; the third stanza shows her in retirement. In the final
stanza, after her grandmother has died, the speaker reflects on herself and her grandmother's life.
The first stanza sets the scene – the antique shop reflects the character and life of the grandmother.
The words 'it kept her' suggest that it seems, to...show more content...
In fact, beneath the images of polish, silver and brass lies someone who can be 'hurt', who feels
though never speaks about how she feels, and who comes to be
'frail'; the poem deals with the speaker's complex response to this realisation. The grandmother's life
is bound up with the antiques even after she no longer keeps the shop. They accompany her to the
'long, narrow room' in which she essentially waits to die. This third stanza is full of unattractive
images – shadows, the smell of absence, things too long shut up – yet the speaker still has to
acknowledge that, to her grandmother, they represent 'all her best things'. This imagery sums up the
lfe of a person who has been defined by her antiques – 'the smell of absences' suggests the memories
that the grandmother attaches to these objects, but it also hints at an unfulfilled existence, while
'the shadows.../ That can't be polished' suggest the grandmother's loss of her habitual control as she
nears death (a state itself often associated with shadow), and are a disturbingly vague image.
In the poem's final image, 'the new dust falling through the air',
Jennings economically suggests the grandmother's joining of the antiques she devoted her life to.
But this image simultaneously reminds us of her absence from the room

Descriptive Essay About My Grandma
My Grandma
Death. Something everyone deals with in their life. It's the end of your story. People handle death
in many different ways, from completely losing it, to it not affecting them at all. For me death hit
very hard. I had never experienced the death of a loved one until my Grandpa had past. I was never
close with my Grandpa but seeing him in that hospital bed that he wasn't going to leave really upset
me. This was the first death in my family. It was a horrible event but the death that has really
affected me to this day was when his wife, my grandma, passed away.
I wake up on a wonderful Saturday morning. It's the middle of summer and the sun is shining
through my window right into my eyes. I wake up and get ready for the day. I...show more content...
I'm going to stay at Connors to get my mind off of it. Keep me posted."
"Okay. I'll talk to you later."
When I was told that my Grandma had an aneurism in her brain she told me not to worry about it.
She said when it burst it will kill her instantly and she won't feel a single thing. It's what she
wanted. Sadly, this did not happen. She lived for 5 more day until she passed away.
There was one point after her aneurism burst that she became conscious. She had one thing to say.
"They lied."
My Grandma always had a very weird sense of humor. When my family heard her say this, we knew
that she was still there.
What affected me the most when my Grandma passed was that it happened so abruptly. One
weekend I'm playing games with her and planning the next weekend. The next weekend I'm seeing
her on her death bed.
I have so many memories of playing games with her but I feel like I never spent enough time with
her. I never got to know her how I wish I could have. I wanted to learn more about her childhood and
how she met my Grandpa but it's too late. As a kid, I felt like she would be around forever and when
I grow up I will learn more about her. I didn't know death was so real.
Her passing has helped me realize something. I realized that family will always be there for you
but they won't be here forever. I feel I have not spent enough time with my family and who knows
when they could be gone. If I spend time with them now, I won't feel as bad

How My Grandmother Impacted My Life
People can impact your life in all sorts of ways. My grandma impacted my life Through my
grandma's advice and character, she has taught me to always be kind, make a positive difference
in another person's life, and to always be brave. My grandma was one of the few people I looked
up to during the early years of my childhood. She was conscientious, affable, and dependable in
her field of work. She worked as a security guard in a high school that was located in Romulus,
where she pushed them to strive as if they were her grandchildren. I remember one time in
particular, my grandma ran into a former student who dropped out of high school at the age of
sixteen a few months prior, working at a pizza place. She caught a glimpse of the girl, and her big
brown eyes widened promptly as they were filled with an immense amount of joy and sensitivity.
Her initial reaction was to wrap her warm, soft, freckled arms around the nape of the young
women's thin, pale neck. As the conversation continued, I sat at an old wooden table that creaked
each time I leaned against it, impatiently waiting for the signal to leave as I kicked my feet back
and forth underneath the chair. I was seven at the time and had no idea how my grandma could
carry on a conversation so gracefully and for so long. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, she
finally gave me her quick little wave, and her cheery "goodbye" smile and I knew it was time to
leave. As we scattered through the busy parking lot, towards the

My father is of both Italian and French decent. My grandmother arrived on Ellis Island in 1909
with her nine siblings. My mother is also of Italian decent with her ancestors arriving on Ellis Island
in 1899 from Naples Italy. I am the first born (1960) of a stereotypical, outspoken, boisterous Italian
/French Catholic family. I have two sisters Jannine (1962) and Yvonne (1964). From the time I can
remember, there was laughing, loud talking, hand waving, hugging and kissing with an abundance
of unconditional love. I struggled being in such an outspoken atmosphere at times because my
personality as a child was more of an observer rather than a willing participant. I was at heart shy,
sensitive and insecure. Both of my parents descended...show more content...
My dad was the provider and the head of the family. My mom was the Harriet of Ozzie and
Harriet. She never worked outside the home, her job was to take care of us and our home. She was
the stereotypical submissive housewife. After my tenth birthday we moved from New York to
California. Shortly after moving here my dad experienced a difficult challenge and began to drink
and have affairs, resulting in my parents divorcing. Society at the time considered divorce taboo, as
did the catholic church. I felt ostracized as friends, church members and family ended their
relationships with my mother, and ultimately us. I was angry, confused and scared. During that first
year my mom was always crying, some days never getting out of bed. Those were very dark and
confusing times for us as a family. We went from always having our mom to becoming latch key
kids as my mother began to put her life back together. My family had fallen apart as everything I
had trusted, believed in and valued shattered. I began to drift away from my friends I had and
began hanging out with a new crowed of friends. I was introduced to smoking cigarettes, pot and
hash. When we weren't smoking we were drinking. I found my voice when I high and I really
believed that had my parents had ruined my life. I ended 9th grade with 120 absences, my
counselor told my dad if I passed all my finals he would give me my credits, to this day I truly
believe he thought I would fail them all, yet I

To begin, Henry Ward Beecher claims, " we never know the love of a parent till we become
parents ourselves." For example, my grandma Darlene represents good parenting. To add on, she
had two kids of her own: my father, and aunt. Darlene loves the packers which followed the rest of
the family cheering for the green and yellow. My grandma is an incredibly important person in my
life with plenty wise words to share. Especially about being a parent.
My grandma enjoyed watching her children grow into mature, caring adults who now have kids of
there own and are following in her footsteps. She found out the most difficult thing about being a
parent was letting her children make mistakes and hoping they would learn from them.Family
psychologist...show more content...
There is always something new for them to get into too. Another point, babies can be challenging
especially if they are your first. Not only babies but toddlers too, when they are getting into
everything, learning how to walk, and speaking their first words. Moreover, any age that can enter
school is challenging because parents must try to give their children the best education they can,
also social problems could mix into the challenge. Therefore, my grandma believes every age group
there is a challenge.
In addition, having children can and most likely will make a change in your life. For my grandma,
however, she knew to be careful with her finances as money was scarce. My grandma wanted her
children both of them to be college educated and to find happiness in their careers. While church
attendance was mandatory. To add on, my grandma's wishes for her children came true. For more
information, by the time my grandma had her children she was in a relationship, which, having
babies did change a lot because later on, they divorced. For the time being, they were together they
found that all of their conversations were centered around the children.
In my opinion, I personally absorbed the understanding of to be a parent you must remember this a
lifetime job that you can't just give up on. Also, to be a parent you will have to give up things you
love, and been wanting, to give it all to your newborn. Additionally,

Describe My Grandmother Essay
I often get asked who is the person I admire and look up to the most, the person whom I look up to
and always will is my abuela (grandmother), Margarita Romero Herrera. My grandmother is one of
the most influential, generous, caring person I have in my life and I am blessed to have an idol like
her growing up. By far one of my favorite memory with her is when I was younger, like around 2
years old, on rainy days we would lay down on the living room floor watching The Wizard of Oz
while waiting for my parents to get home from work. It is beyond hard for me to describe my
grandmother because I know that the way...show more content...
My grandma is my mother's mother, of course is has to be a part in my life because of how close
they are. To have someone like her in my life is a blessing. I was always taught by her to be
focused on myself, speak up when I something is bothering me, help others, respect others, and be
grateful. I have had my grandmother part of my life for about since the day I was born, there is
not a day that I go without seeing her. The days that I do not see her is hard because of how close
I am to her than with my own mother. There is times I think my grandmother is more of a mother
to me than my actual mother is, perhaps even an angel sent to me because she truly is someone
who I can go to and I know she'll protect me and help me when I need it most. My grandmother
was born on January 17, 1952 in Guadalajara, Mexico. She is the the youngest of her seven
siblings, 3 boys and 2 girls. While growing up in Guadalajara, Mexico, she lived with her mother,
Catalina, she never had the chance to live and grow up with her father, "me acuerdo que era un
hombre alto pero no muy bien lo conoci" (I only remember him being a tall man but I did not know
him that well). My grandmother did not get to finish her studies

My grandmother passed away when I was in third grade. She was diagnosed with lung cancer and
had been struggling with the sickness for a couple of years before her passing. I remember visiting
her on the weekend so we could spend time with her. As her illness increased and the closer to death
she got, my family and I would visit her more often. The day she passed away, I remember being
called out of class and collecting my things. My sisters' and I sat in the Principal's office while my
mother was on her way to pick us up. When we got in the car we questioned our mom and she then
told us about our grandmother dying. Next, I believe we go and visit our grandmother's dead body
to say our final goodbyes. Now I remember my parents talking to...show more content...
I remember getting a lot of hugs that day. My family was really supportive and everyone who
gathered and attended the funeral where close friends and relatives. During this time I learned a lot
about death, that when someone dies you do not get to see them again. Death is something that is
permanent. Honestly, this death did not really affect me and impact my attitude about death,
because it wasn't a significant death to me. This has been the first death I had experienced, and I
was so young that it was hard to comprehend what was happening. But I can say this, the death of
my grandmother helped prepare me for what I would be experiencing when I get older when
more of my family members start to pass away. My grandmother's death was like opening the
door to me for what I should expect and experience when I experience more significant death and
losses happen in the future. My most significant loss is definitely not the same as my earliest
death experience. This time I will be talking about a loss of a relationship than talking about a
death experience. When I say loss of relationship, I mean the relationship is not the same as what it
used to be. The loss of a significant relationship in my life happened in the summer of 2015. During
the summer I was at home working for my mother and helping take care of my grandparents, my
mother's parents. I was trying to help my mother out as much as possible

My Grandmother Was The Matriarch Of My Family
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. My great–grandma was the life of the party and the
flames in the fireplace. No matter what she did, she made it very clear that she was not the least
bit "bland"; she always stood out from the crowd. She was extremely vivacious and always created
a raucous; her voice could be heard from down the block. She painted her house walls mint green,
had bright red–orange hair, danced as though no one was watching, and cared for any–and–everyone
(no matter what her feelings toward the person were.) If an event was being held, it was already
known that it was happening at her house. All parties and gatherings were held at her house. Her
house is also where all the food could be

The Death of my grandmother a life experience that changed my Identity
My sense of independence was shattered when my grandmother departed from this world. I lost my
grandmother and this experience shattered my perspective of life. Losing a loved one was like
having a wisdom tooth pulled without any Novocain.
In spite of this painful occurrence happening to me at twenty–four years of age, emotions such as
shock, anger, and guilt, came into play creating chaos. I rerun her death in my mind, yet unable to
completely forget the sadness, similar to a synopsis. These feelings can be frightening and
overwhelming; however I have learned how to cope and with the realization that life and death are
phenomenal both intertwined. I speculate that...show more content...
It was no longer just a report card that I was getting; in addition to each grade I receive will be a
remembrance of my grandmother whom I so deeply loved. I am determined to not only graduate
college, but to graduate with superior grades enough to please her. To this day, it is a constant
struggle, like any older adults continuing there are
Conquest of higher learning many twists and turns ups and downs. I can say I know with having a
loving family by my side to support me no matter what the situation may be. Most importantly, I
have my grandmother's memory deeply inbreeded. Even though it may not be physically, she will
always be in my heart, pushing me to be the finest that I am capable of being.
My sense of independence was shattered when my grandmother departed from this world. I lost my
grandmother and this experience shattered my perspective of life. Losing a loved one was like
having a wisdom tooth pulled without any Novocain.
In spite of this painful occurrence happening to me at twenty–four years of age, emotions such as
shock, anger, and guilt, came into play creating chaos. I rerun her death in my mind, yet unable to
completely forget the sadness, similar to a synopsis. These feelings can be frightening and
overwhelming; however I have learned how to cope and with the realization that life and death are
phenomenal both intertwined. I speculate that when one passes on they continue to be

Essay Of My Grandmother

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