Personal Narrative: The Passing of my Grandma

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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. Gran, as I frequently called her, stood at five feet seven inches tall. She was an elderly woman in her mid-50s that enjoyed living life and helping others in any way possible, whether it is at the market selling produce, donating to a charity for the less fortunate, or participating in walk-a-thons. On the verge of going into her sixties, her behavior protruded was one of a woman in her early thirties. Dressed in a tight, knee-high khaki pants, a black V-cut top, and a black sandals, with her hand held on her hip saying, “I might be old in age, but I am young and strong at heart darling” as she responded to my comment, in my dialect, “Yuh feel you too young.” This brought much humor to the room. The joyou... ... middle of paper ... ... others in the B category. It has been two months since I got the terrible news. Indeed, there was no Gran amongst the crowd full of proud supporters of the graduates but her aura was still in me. She changed my outlook on life. My journey of secondary school education ended. It was time to say goodbye to all my classmates and teachers and most important my Grandmother. I have said goodbye to the past, and now hello to the new journey, the new me, the new beginning. As a University student now looking back on the past, all the trials and hardships, my grandmother passing was not all dreadful. In fact, this dreadful event actually opened up my eyes for me to reach my highest peak. It has taught me to be strong and proactive. In addition, it taught me that I should get all I can while I am alive and do not take anything, such as education, for granted.
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