Hi Guys! Thanks for tuning in to my most recent (atm) blog post :) before writing this blog assignment I read the following texts to help me write my first narrative piece scene:
Not A Pity Party. Summer 15’; the summer right before going into high school. It was the summer of growing up, the summer of having my first love, and near the end, finding out my grandma had liver cancer. I first found out before going down to New Jersey for my cousin's birthday party. They rushed her down to the hospital because her skin became extremely yellow, but my grandma still wanted me to go down for the weekend. Going down I had one of my first break downs, it was honestly probably one of the first times my aunt and cousins had seen me cry since I was a kid, I was strong, probably too strong for my good. Fast forward a few days later, I was in the car on the way to see her with my mom and grandpa. The car ride there was quiet and unsettling, which represented all of our feelings at the time. As I walked down the sickly hospital hallways, all I could feel was dread.. This was the first time seeing my grandma after hearing about what happened, my heart was racing. We got closer to the door of the room she was in, “She might act a little different, she’s on a lot of medicine right now,” my mother started to warn me. I started to slow down, and peeked into the room, I felt like a deer in headlights, I was terrified, that- I was not expecting. That was not my grandma there. She was laying on an uncomfortable-looking hospital bed, hooked up to a machine with a breathing tube in, breathing long and slow. She wasn’t all dolled up like she usually was, she was sick, I had to calm down before I totally broke down into tears. I entered the room, my throat beginning to close up and tears in my eyes, I struggled to say hello, she could very obviously already notice how upset I was. “Stop it now! this isn’t a pity party,” she exclaimed jokingly. There she was, even in a shit ton of pain, in this incredibly serious situation, there was my strong, jokester of a grandma. I climbed into bed next to her and laid with her, my head on her shoulder, enjoying just being in her presence. “I love you.” “I love you even more.” It was a short visit, leaving soon after the moment I had with her, which ended up being one of the last full conversations I had with her, she soon passed away a few weeks later. And that, was one of my first feelings of grief, one of the hardest moments in my life.
4 Comments
Sabatino
2/18/2020 09:01:22 am
CIF. How might an image complement this scene?
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Ashley Gaylor
2/20/2020 07:25:46 am
Your story was very powerful. It is very tough losing a loved one and you can tell even by your story telling she was very important to you. I am very sorry for your loss
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Bill Lewis
2/20/2020 07:49:02 pm
I can tell she was very important to you. Losing a loved one is a lasting memory that does fade quickly.
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