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Importance of happiness essay
The importance of happiness
Importance of happiness essay
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Small drops of rain fell from the gray clouds outside the funeral home window. How fitting. This is the perfect weather for a funeral, isn’t it? Gloomy, dark, you name it. It didn’t matter though. No one was affected by the sound of the rain. Nobody cared. Everybody, including me, was too busy missing Margaret Grace. If only Margaret Grace was still here. She loved the rain because there would always be a rainbow after. She was a happy person. Wow, I have to use the word “was” now, don’t I? Her smile used to spread like wildfire; everybody else would smile too. She had a natural glow. Every time she walks into the room, all the attention would be directed to her. She was loved by everyone, judging by the amount of people who came and cried at her funeral. No one hated her, except one person. Life. Life absolutely hated her. Maybe that’s why death appealed to her so much. Everything went wrong for Margaret Grace. Sure, Margaret Grace had some good things happen to her, like real friends and no backstabbers, but the negative always outshines the positive, right? For example, her mother left her, her father never gave her the attention she deserved, and stupid bullies that bully her on a daily basis for having no mother, etc. It’s amazing how she used to always have a smile on her face even though there was nothing worth smiling for in her world. When Margaret Grace had a visit from pancreatic cancer, she wasn’t fazed by it at all. The only people who were freaking out were…well…everybody else. However, she did change, little by little. Physically, her beautiful, brown ringlets were cut off and left her with a pixie cut, which suited her well. Margaret Grace had to go to the hospital many times a week, and usually stayed there ... ... middle of paper ... ...g my cries struggling to get out, but no sound was made. My best friend was gone. No, she wasn’t gone for a vacation to Hawaii, or gone to the store, nope. She was gone permanently. Everything after that was a total blur, the nurses calling her father, when they pulled up the blanket over her head, etc. The patter of the rain gradually stopped. The service has ended, and people were starting to leave. I looked around, and slowly walked up to the open casket. The peacefulness of her face somewhat shocked me. It was as if she was only asleep in her bed of flowers. Maybe if I poked her, she would wake up and laugh at me, like the old days. Oh, who am I kidding? I pulled out the key necklace she gave me years ago, and I just looked at the accessory that held so many memories. I placed it on her chest and whispered, “Thank you, Margaret Grace, thank you for everything.”
“I still recall… going into the large, darkened parlor to see my brother and finding the casket, mirrors and pictures all draped in white, and my father seated by his side, pale and immovable. As he took no notice of me, after standing a long while, I climbed upon his knee, when he mechanically put his arm about me and with my head resting against his beating heart we both sat in silence, he thinking of the wreck of all his hopes in the loss of a dear son, and I wondered what could be said or done to fill the void in his breast. At length, he heaved a deep sign and said: “Oh, my daughter, I wish you were a
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
Her love was like a light; always radiant and gleaming, and those who got a glimpse of this light where forever captured by it. Neither afraid of love or afraid to love. She was forgiving and kind, kindness being her only weakness. She would often seek advice from me
I was all alone. I was thinking about what just happened… *RING RING RING* My phone was ringing. “Aunt Rosie, hey…” I was interrupted by my Aunt. “LIsten, I just got a call from the hospital, your mom passed away in the ambulance. I’m so sorry honey. I’m taking your little sister. Your not stable enough to take care of her and you're probably high right now anyway, she doesn’t need that kind of influence in her life… get her things packed I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” *CLICK* She hung up on me. My life was disappearing before my eyes and I was doing nothing about it.
She cared deeply about others, constantly putting herself below them to protect them. She made the way for many to do what they love, and to be treated with respect. She had a great purpose and a cause, gathering others to support it and continue it even after she passed.
It was about 1:30am and the only people in the Emergency Waiting Room were my mother and I and a couple that looked like they had been there for a while. I sat there staring at the walls that resembled a jail cell for what felt like hours. And that was the particular moment that I realized the channel had been switched forever. I had gone from a girl who had never lost a loved one to a girl who had almost lost her only sister. All I could think of was all of the “what ifs?” What if I had already gone to bed and no one in my family woke up to the answering machine? What if that man didn’t work a late night and someone else with bad intentions got to her first? What if she had been driving a little faster and got knocked unconscious when that deer jumped in front of her car? What if she never woke
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
During the last moments of my mother’s life she was surrounded by loved ones, as she slowly slipped away into the morning with grace and peace.
Beloved, she was exactly as her name. A spirit that came and left just like the wind. Although she caused a lot of broken hearts and pain. She never meant to hurt anyone, she just wanted rest and the only way to receive that rest was by revisiting the woman that caused her pain and murdered her.
The last hour I had spent preparing for this moment, because deep down I seemed to know that my family would never leave the hospital alive. Still, the words hit me at full force, and I feel my breathing quicken and heartbeat pick up as my eyes dart around the room. My pulse pounds in my temple as if I just ran a mile, and the doctor is trying to get me to calm down, but the room is spinning and inky blackness edges into the corner of my vision. My legs feel weak and shaky as I succumb to the horribleness of it all.
After, she passed, life seemed darker for awhile. Perhaps, losing loved ones, are physical and mental blows, that I can’t seem to get away from. I would cry for days with wondering thoughts on how I could have saved them. As family and friends disappeared whether by death or just lack of communications in friendships, it had negatively affected me, wondering when will the last day be. However, as I begun to face the realities of life, I am learning that you enjoy life today and focus on whatever comes when it comes.
I was surprised when I was in the cafe, and suddenly the weather changed from a sunny afternoon to a stormy dark afternoon. I had seen many rain showers, but this one seemed different. This seemed different, because I had a different view and perspective of the storm. A storm like this had never left an impact on me.
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.
Losing a loved one is one of the hardest experiences every person must go through. The experience does not end with the loss though, but begins with it. The loss of a dear person leads those left behind into a downward spiral of emotions and memories. A poem entitled “Lucy Gray” by William Wordsworth focuses on that loss and the emotions that follow it. By reading the poem one can objectively experience both the grief that Lucy Gray’s death brings on but also her parents’ acceptance of her death.
That dreaded feeling just kept getting worse and worse. Only assuming that maybe I was coming down with the flu. But deep down I knew something was wrong. So walking faster and faster to almost a full sprint I got home to only learn that Mom was taken to the hospital. Thinking why take her for a simple cold. Only to receive the soul crushing news that it was not a simple cold, but a heart attacking virus that had wreaked havoc on sixty percent of her heart not working leaving only forty percents working. The medical diagnosis is called Congestive Heart Failure and improperly working lungs. The hospital was going to keep her overnight. It was on the following day we could go see our possibly dying mother. I had no experience dealing with the clashing and over consuming feelings that were happening. The sinking tar pit of dread, hot flames of hell burning inside thinking that this is not happening to my mother. The weeping feeling of sadness that left me shivering inside. I could not let the feelings take over because I had to be strong for my younger siblings at the time were only sixteen, eleven and nine. So they did not have to be scared to let them know that Mom will be okay. Lying to them so they will be not be heartbroken until it was time to be that way. Seeing their faces streaked with tears and pained expressions, knowing that our mom was sick and may not come home. To see the house that was