I was sixteen years old when my grandma Saja died. She was my mom`s mom, and she lived in a house right next to ours. She was 82 when she died out of natural causes, as stated by doctors, but we knew that she was so exhausted from recent asthma attackts. Saja was my biggest support, and I remember her advices even now. She was very active, and social person and everybody loved her. I was in her room the night when she died. I was not alone, there were some other family members. I remember her breathing, and breathing and her face became darker and darker. She was constantly asking for water and my mother and aunt were giving her all the time. Her breathing became heavier and heavier and I remember hearing some scratchy sounds. There were eight of us in that tiny room, and at some point I was told to leave a room, and I did. Soon after I heard crying and I knew it was over. Grandma was gone as they were saying to the “better place”. I remember seeing her there in her bed, surrounded by us, and she was so tiny but also somehow so dark. I heard that when you die your face becomes whitish or completely paled, but that is not what happened in her case. While I was looking at her, I remember feeling cold, so cold that I started to shiver and I never experienced that in my life before. That shiver I will never forget, and even today I know that it started in my shoulders, and suddenly I was so cold, cold. My family was crying, but I just stood there. I felt that my strength was gone, I was feeling numb and unprotected. My grandma was the first person who I would go to if I had some concerns or problems in my life. She always had time for all my stories and she was helpful and never judgmental. My grandma had lots of rings, and ... ... middle of paper ... ...ich is what eventually happened. Saja`s death had a big impact on my mom. She used to light a candle every night for weeks next to her picture. When I started to live alone, I continued to do that on her birthday and every Christmas. All my family gathered on weekends in her backyard and we used to talk about Saja and her life. We were taking care of her house and garden. But, after few weeks my mother and I were the only ones who were still doing that, and others would just show up occasionally, on some big dates. Now, I still light up candle in the church, I go to her grave but it is not very often like I used to do at the beginning. I can still feel that she is here somehow and even now when I am typing this assignment I can see her smiling and I know she is happy because I am writing about her and she knows that I still love her and she will never be forgotten.
At age 4, my paternal Grandmother lost his mother whose spirit likely went to Heaven, because she was a law-abiding, loving and hard-working person and body was buried in the midst of a storm in a small, godforsaken cemetery in Hungary. Shortly after the funeral, my Grandmother’s father remarried and with his new marriage came an ...
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
“You cannot create experience, you must undergo it.” In the story The Crossing by Cormac McCarthy, the protagonist undergoes an experience in which he comes face to face with the inevitability of death. The piece is abundant with imagery, careful diction, and religious undertone. McCarthy employs these literary devices in order to convey the protagonist’s deep concern for a wounded wolf he encounters in the wilderness and his quiet sense of reverence, loss and even fear when confronted by the animal’s death.
In 1848, discoveries of gold and silver sparked interest in white settlers. In order to make room for more land, the federal government seized the land of the Sioux tribes. Unfortunately, the Sioux tribes were forced to move to these “reservations.” With so many pioneers moving to the gold sites, the Native Americans’ lands were yet taken again. In turn, the government implemented more restrictions on the tribes. Their boundaries just kept shrinking. All of this tension instigated a battle between the American Indians and the whites known as the Wounded Knee Massacre. However, the major causes of the Wounded Knee Massacre were western expansion, the Ghost Dance, and Sitting Bull’s arrest.
Here is another essay for you to use! It's alittle screwed up, but perhaps you can do something with it. It was a lot worse than this, it had strange marks all over it and the paragraphs were everywhere. I fixed it a bit, but I would go crazy if I stared at a computer screen any more!!!! Euthanasia, is one of the most controversial issues of our time.
Death, its such an unexpected thing that happens to everyone at some point in their life. Some people die old, some go young. Others go without warning, just disappear from our lives without explanation. No letter, note or goodbye, they just leave us to never return. Death, or in this situation suicide. Such a horrible thing to the average person to lose someone that way. Never knowing why they did it, left with loose ends that will never be tied up. For others its a glorious thing, the accept it as a way of life or something that has to be done to “save” them or their family. Suicide is looked differently in a particular culture compared to how americans see it. The samurais see it as honor to them or their loved ones after dishonoring them. To them its not something to be feared but to be excepted, death in this form will bring back honor so that their families don't have to suffer in their lives. In America though suicide is seen as such a horrible thing. We don't understand why someone would take their life so soon, what would push them to decide to end their life? Most americans fear death, they can't stare him in the eye and except what is going to happen to them, but some few stare at death and welcome him. Every person, culture, state, country sees suicide in a different way. Either in Peace, honor and respect or as something unexplainable and all too sudden, some might even just see it as something that happened and never second guess it. How ever a person and place may view it we are all impacted the same way.
The story of Eric James Borges is not for the faint of heart. Eric was a 19-year-old filmmaker from Visalia, California who was constantly tormented and bullied for the fact that he was different. The bullying of Eric Borges began in kindergarten when many of the other students began to see Eric as different as he didn’t like girls. Eric’s experience progressively got worse as he reached higher education. His middle school and high school years consisted of him being mentally, physically, verbally assaulted by other students on a day-to-day basis for his sexual orientation. Students ostracized, stalked and physically assaulted Eric leading to the development of his severe migraines. Eric dropped out of high school and graduated early by independently studying after other students in a classroom physically assaulted him with a teacher present. The beginning of college was not any better for Eric as his mother performed an exorcism on him in an attempt to cure him from being gay. College simply caused Eric’s suicidal thoughts, self-loathing and mental depression to increase. After officially coming out as a sophomore in college, Eric’s parents told him that he was a disgusting and perverted. Only two months after Eric came out, his parents kicked him out of his own house. Eric began working as a freelance speaker, a published writer, a supplemental instructor at the College of the Sequoias while working as an intern for The Trevor Project. Eric soon filmed a video called “It Gets Better” in support of LGBTQ youth but took his own life one month after filming the video.
Suicide amongst young people has increased greatly in the past 25 years in the US( young men and women 15-24) Women and suicide has increased the least with 250 percent, men has soared to over 300 percent. The US is now ranked the highest in the world for suicide. Until recently suicide amongst the young men and women accounted for less than 5 percent of suicide. It has increased with the increase in population of youth. Young men 15-24 now account for more than 20 percent of the male suicides.
Suicide is a permanent solution to what is often a temporary problem. Suicide not only affects the individual but it also affects all the people that surround that one person who committed suicide. When a person decides he/she wants to die they commit this act. But, when a person attempts suicide and is unsuccessful this can lead to that individual to be in more pain to include: broken bones to brain damage. An unsuccessful, suicide attempt can cause the person to sink further into depression as well. There are many contributing factors when dealing with someone who wants to commit suicide but there are also a few myths that are associated with suicide as well. When people talk about committing suicide to another person this does not necessarily mean that they want to kill themselves, but it just might be that they are reaching out or crying for help. There are many different myths associated with suicide. Myths like: people who talk about suicide are just trying to get attention; from suicide occurring without warning; and suicidal people not wanting to die. To identify theses myths one must understand why someone would want to end their life.
He died of a heart attack in Las Vegas, Nevada, where him and my grandmother had moved to way before I was born. Anyway, I was at a wake. Everyone was wearing black and they seemed sad, but I had no clue why. The sadness, on some just looked like anger or remorse, the expressions had changed through the furthest of family members to my grandfather. I do not understand these faces, still to this day; my grandfather was mean, but very magnificent. It was time, my mother patiently took mine, and my brother’s hand and slowly walked us to the casket. My brother is 4 years older than I, so he understood. His face went from a happily mingling boy to a sad, depressed young man in about an instant. We approached the casket and my mother picked my chunky, short body up to see my grandfather’s made up body. I had not known what was going on, to me, he looked like he was sleeping. I knew he was not because my grandfather had the snore of one thousand angry horses. Something was wrong, I felt the need to cry and panic at the same time. My mother took me out and explained everything to me. I was not usually a sheltered child, so I was taken aback by this sudden smack to the face called ‘death.’ I was too young to be explained the concept of
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
The moment we stepped foot into the hospital, I could hear my aunt telling my mother that “he is in a better place now”. At that moment, something had already told me that my dad was deceased; it was like I could feel it or something. I felt the chills that all of a sudden came on my arms. As my mother and grandmother were both holding my hand, they took me into this small room. The walls were white, and it had a table with four tissue boxes sitting on the top. My other grandmother was there, and so were my two aunts, my uncles, and
Two years and four months ago I died. A terrible condition struck me, and I was unable to do anything about it. In a matter of less than a year, it crushed down all of my hopes and dreams. This condition was the death of my mother. Even today, when I talk about it, I burst into tears because I feel as though it was yesterday. I desperately tried to forget, and that meant living in denial about what had happened. I never wanted to speak about it whenever anyone would ask me how I felt. To lose my Mom meant losing my life. I felt I died with her. Many times I wished I had given up, but I knew it would break the promise we made years before she passed away. Therefore, I came back from the dead determined and more spirited than before.
Dad lit the candles on her heart shaped cookie cake, the lights dimmed and shaky voices began singing happy birthday. Everyone saw how happy she was with my dad sitting next to her holding her hand and all eyes were on the happy couple. A box of tissues was getting passed around the room and I imagine it must have been bittersweet for my mom to witness; nevertheless she looked very pleased as she gazed around the room. Everything started to move in slow motion. I realized in those 20 seconds that my family and friends were there for her. Not because she was dying, simply because it was her birthday and on birthdays you celebrate life not
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...