Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
The last time I saw my grandmother she was in a white robe with small blue polka dots on them which grazed her ankles. Her hair was a mixture of striking white strands and dull black strands, it lay, limp across her eyes, shielding her face. Her legs dangled over the wheelchair and she swung one of them slowly back and forth, keeping her eyes down staring at her foot. Her face was etched with pain, loneliness, and desperateness emotions which directly mirrored my face.
I remembered how lively she once had been, how she enjoyed cooking and baking for hours on end. How her apartment always smelled of cigarettes and butter, an odd mixture but I always welcomed it because it was her smell. Watching her sit there, looking so lost I recall, confused me, I did not understand how one could be so happy and full of spirit and then just lose it, becoming just a vague memory of who they once were.
Walking towards her I did my best to hide the fear that was so plainly on my face, I tried to force a smile in hopes that she would return the gesture. Once she spotted me, I could tell she attempted to change the look upon her face, and wear a mask which covered her true emotions. She did her best to cheer me up as I too attempted with all my might to do something, say something that would allow her to be her old self again.
Before leaving I made a small remark about how I was learning to make pupusas, knowing that she was always pleading with me to learn. With that small remark I saw on her face a small flicker of her old self, it was only for a split second, but that was enough to greatly raise my spirits. Departing from her was hard, and tears were shed, but we both enjoyed and took a lot from that visit. That was the last time I saw my grandmother, and those moments I spent with her that day will always be engraved in my mind. That experience of departing from her and not knowing when, or if I would see her again was heart wrenching. What hurt most was knowing that I could have taken advantage of having her with me safe and healthy before she became ill.
Instead of falling into myself and delving into my own sorrow and becoming just a mere shadow of myself- just a memory of who I once was; I instead choose to thrive from the experience I went through. I chose to see my grandmas suffering as a reason for which to better myself and to somehow not leave her death in vain. That experience made me grow up, until that time I had never thought of life after death, the thought had never occurred to me, that people can be here in a second and gone in a flash. Her death was eye opening it caused me to be aware of a life full of sadness and hurt but to not let that overcome you.
its still a fairly rough draft, any pointers or advice will be greatly appreciated!
The last time I saw my grandmother she was in a white robe with small blue polka dots on them which grazed her ankles. Her hair was a mixture of striking white strands and dull black strands, it lay, limp across her eyes, shielding her face. Her legs dangled over the wheelchair and she swung one of them slowly back and forth, keeping her eyes down staring at her foot. Her face was etched with pain, loneliness, and desperateness emotions which directly mirrored my face.
I remembered how lively she once had been, how she enjoyed cooking and baking for hours on end. How her apartment always smelled of cigarettes and butter, an odd mixture but I always welcomed it because it was her smell. Watching her sit there, looking so lost I recall, confused me, I did not understand how one could be so happy and full of spirit and then just lose it, becoming just a vague memory of who they once were.
Walking towards her I did my best to hide the fear that was so plainly on my face, I tried to force a smile in hopes that she would return the gesture. Once she spotted me, I could tell she attempted to change the look upon her face, and wear a mask which covered her true emotions. She did her best to cheer me up as I too attempted with all my might to do something, say something that would allow her to be her old self again.
Before leaving I made a small remark about how I was learning to make pupusas, knowing that she was always pleading with me to learn. With that small remark I saw on her face a small flicker of her old self, it was only for a split second, but that was enough to greatly raise my spirits. Departing from her was hard, and tears were shed, but we both enjoyed and took a lot from that visit. That was the last time I saw my grandmother, and those moments I spent with her that day will always be engraved in my mind. That experience of departing from her and not knowing when, or if I would see her again was heart wrenching. What hurt most was knowing that I could have taken advantage of having her with me safe and healthy before she became ill.
Instead of falling into myself and delving into my own sorrow and becoming just a mere shadow of myself- just a memory of who I once was; I instead choose to thrive from the experience I went through. I chose to see my grandmas suffering as a reason for which to better myself and to somehow not leave her death in vain. That experience made me grow up, until that time I had never thought of life after death, the thought had never occurred to me, that people can be here in a second and gone in a flash. Her death was eye opening it caused me to be aware of a life full of sadness and hurt but to not let that overcome you.
its still a fairly rough draft, any pointers or advice will be greatly appreciated!