I remember when I was a little girl walking in the cold on one dark afternoon to my grandma’s house from school. As I walk I could hear the wind whistling around me and garbage cans banging on the ground from big angry cats. In my head I’m thinking that I had a bad day at school and I can’t wait to get to my grandma’s house. At last I reached my destination.
As I walk in I could smell this kind of food cooking on the stove. I couldn’t describe it because it smelled sooo good. It smelled like my grandma’s famous chicken stew with carrots, cilantro,and basil. As I inhale the smell of the soup I right away know that I want some. I feel my mouth watering so i could no longer wait. So I race to the kitchen and I see the stew already done. My grandma’s say’s looks like you had a rough day today. She said I bet my famous chicken stew would help you. As I take a bite of the stew I just feel amazing. The taste is so glorious. The way that she cooked the vegetables is so soft and it melts in your mouth right away. The stew is not something that you buy in a store. It’s more gore made and makes your mouth water believe me. One smell of it and you're in love. When I was done eating I told my grandma how my day was at school and what i did. My grandma is the sweetest grandma in the whole world. She would always make me home cooked meal every time i’d
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One afternoon they called my dad and said they had bad news. They told my dad that she died due to her lung cancer problem. When my dad told me that my grandma died I couldn’t think. All I just wanted to do was cry and think of all the things she has done for me me. A week later we had a funeral for her. I walked up and saw her body. She so pale and ice cold. So I put a bouquet of flowers on her and said “rest in Peace”. Your gone but you’ll never be forgotten. It was just like that she had just disappeared or vanished like a blink of an
I rushed out of the bedroom confused. I began to realize what was going on. I ran to where I last saw her and she was not there. Never before I felt my heart sank. My eyes filled with tears. I dropped to my knees and felt the cold white tile she last swept and mopped for my family. I look up and around seeing picture frames of of her kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren smiling. I turn my head to the right and see the that little statue of the Virgin Mary, the last gift we gave her. I began to cry and walked to my mother hugging her. My father walked dreadfully inside the house. He had rushed my great grandmother to the hospital but time has not on his side. She had a bad heart and was not taking her medication. Later that morning, many people I have never seen before came by to pray. I wandered why this had to happen to her. So much grief and sadness came upon
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
The joys of having a loving, caring, and sweet grandmother, all stolen from me by cancer. The day of her diagnosis and the doctors giving her a time expectancy. Sitting in the room, Dr. Vargas mumbled, “Lucila Toro, I’m sorry to inform you have stage two pancreatic cancer.” As a child, I was trying to grasp this information of how all my beliefs in God could fail me, death I had hoped my
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
I sat silently on a rock with my grandpa in the palm of my hand, i was remembering the events of my life with him. From the first time I met him, to the last time I saw him. His remains were clutched tightly in my left hand. My grandpa 's old poems went through my head. One stood out in particular.
I have been very fortunate to have known my maternal and paternal grandparents and great-grandparents. We enjoy a close family and always have. Sadly, my first experience with a close death was when my paternal grandma died at the age of sixty-four of colon cancer. I was in the ninth grade when she died and hers’ was the first wake and funeral I had experienced. I remember having nightmares for weeks after the funeral. As I grew older, I lost my
I know she heard us but she never opened her eyes again until that last moment, she opened her eyes one last night and my grandma told my great grandma “it’s okay mama go ahead daddy’s waiting for you I love you” that was when she took her last breath. It was July 29th around 3am when my dad came in my room and told me “Haley I’m going to the hospital grandma is gone.” At first I just said okay I was in a dead sleep so I didn’t comprehend it in that exact moment. A few minutes later I got out of bed I heard my brother pull in the drive way he left work early to come home and he and I sat and looked though pictures together shedding tears and laughing and asking each other if we remembered this. We all went up my great grandma’s house where all the family gathered about an hour and a half later. Even then I was fine it wasn’t until my grandma walked in the door which is my great grandmas daughter as soon as she did she just sat in my great grandmas’ chair and stated sobbing and that’s when it hit me that she was really gone this wasn’t just some dream it was real. I could taste salt from my tears running down my face into my mouth. After that it was all a complete
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
My dad went into my grandma's room alone because the secretary said that they hadn't taken my grandma to get cremation place and my sister and I were scared of seeing her dead for some reason. So the waiting game began my sister and I talked about all the fun times we had with my grandma while my dad went into her room to start cleaning her room and getting stuff ready to get packed up. About two hours later a guy came with a cart and took my grandma away to get cremated. He asked us if we had some last words we all said no and he drove the cart away. As he took my grandma away I had a sad feeling inside one that was really hard to explain but it hurt a
The familiar smell of soft cookies and homemade cooking are common thoughts when people think about their grandma's house. Great feasts and family gatherings play a part in everyone's grandmother's home. But when I really think about my grandma's house only one word comes to my mind: fun.
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
When reminiscing about my childhood a home is hard to recall. It seemed common for others to have a place called home. Moving from house to house was not the problem, but the empty feeling. Home to me was my grandparent’s house. I spent nearly all of my childhood there. My grandparents bought the one story house with two bedrooms in the early seventies. From the spacious bedroom, to the kitchen with endless possibilities and the way I spent my time this house defined my character.
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much.