The Death of my grandmother a life experience that changed my Identity

Topics: Family, Life, Higher education Pages: 5 (1688 words) Published: September 30, 2013
The Death of my grandmother a life experience that changed my Identity My sense of independence was shattered when my grandmother departed from this world. I lost my grandmother and this experience shattered my perspective of life. Losing a loved one was like having a wisdom tooth pulled without any Novocain.

In spite of this painful occurrence happening to me at twenty-four years of age, emotions such as shock, anger, and guilt, came into play creating chaos. I rerun her death in my mind, yet unable to completely forget the sadness, similar to a synopsis. These feelings can be frightening and overwhelming; however I have learned how to cope and with the realization that life and death are phenomenal both intertwined. I speculate that when one passes on they continue to be familiar with what the breathing are doing. Everett2

Each individual has someone in their lives who makes a positive impact on them, even after they are gone. Following the death of my beloved grandmother, my perspective on life has greatly changed. My grandmother's dream was to see me graduate from college. Unfortunately for her, she only made it half way. To this day, I regret not completing my college education. Being raised in a strict, family oriented background helped me succeed throughout the high school process. My grandmother’s motto was "Boys and Books do not mix". Little did I realize at the time how much this expression would mean to me in life? She raised me the same way she was brought up, and for that I am appreciative. My biggest enthusiast was always my grandmother. Before my parents knew report cards were imminent, my phone was already ringing vigorously. She always made sure I was on the precise track and she allowed me to never set my standards stumpy and shoot for the stars.


My grandmother decided to move from San Antonio, Texas to Houston Texas in search of a better life. Her first place of residence was a boarding house on Washington Avenue in Houston. Where she met and married my grandfather. To this union birth my father, and a decision of becoming homeowners’. Settling in a community then called “Sixth Ward”, just off Washington Avenue on Lakin Street. The only regret she had with moving from San Antonio to Houston was the racism she experienced. However she became a leader in her community by organizing community club and serving club honoring at that time Black women who worked as housekeepers were classified as “The domestics”, providing self esteem to an otherwise thankless job. My grandmother has a strong belief in a high power watching over her, so with this in mind connected with Brown Chapel A.M.E Church, embracing many associations for instance the choir, stewardess board, assisting with the young people’s division. This gave her so many pleasurable moments enhancing her quality of life.


The day came when she became ill; this was the saddest day in my life. Dreadfully the events surrounding what happened are frightening. Earlier in the week, a younger brother and I argued, over what I cannot remember at this time, but my grandmother shouted, “Quit that”. The words focus and concentration had left my vocabulary, as the days went on, she became gravely ill; I sat daily at her bedside trying to get her to eat, unfortunately with no results. The night came, when I received a call from the doctor, it was on a Wednesdays evening as I remember, receiving a call from the doctor summoning the family to the hospital. Once we all arrived, the doctor informed us that my grandmother would not live past that evening. I remember getting in my car, putting my daughter in the back seat, belting her in and driving off as fast as could, going around curves at an astonishing rate of speed, yearning that I could be the one passing.

Nevertheless as sad as I was, I knew what was required of me. I had to carry out my dreams in honor of my grandmother. I put the...
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