My Grandmother
My Grandmother It was May 15th 2007, I remember this day like it was yesterday. My mom had told me to get off at my auntie Candace’s house, because I would be spending a few nights there. She said she had packed clothes for me, and left a note inside the bag explaining why she left so suddenly. In the note she had told me to be good, and not to cry for her. She had left for the city to be with my grandmother during her surgery. She had said, that I could’ve gone with her, but there was no room in the vehicle and she had to be strong for my grandma, and I had to do the same. For a long time I didn’t understand why she couldn’t have taken me, besides that the vehicle was full. I didn’t believe that though, I thought she just wanted to get away from me. But now at the age of 16 I understand. The operation my grandmother was getting was the amputation of her legs. How was a mother supposed to explain to her 10yr old daughter that she’ll never see her grandmother walk again? I’m still not sure my mother understands how I feel about that day. It was an eye opener for sure.
My grandmother was a diabetic; I didn’t understand what it was. I was to carefree to realize that my grandma was sick, really sick and she was an alcoholic which made it worse. I just thought that the alcohol wasn’t bad at all so I sat there watching her drink her life away slowly not realizing how much time I had left until she had lost her legs and soon after would pass on. Looking back now I feel like I should have been more aware of what was going on. I could have helped her in some way.
That year she had passed away in the late month of September, I was devastated, torn apart as my mother would say, her passing was hard on me. It was out of blue and I hadn’t expected it, it was hard to comprehend on my own. But I didn’t show people how I felt of course my mother knew but she was dealing with it in her own way to even care to notice that I was depressed I would go day without eating, I would
My grandmother was a diabetic; I didn’t understand what it was. I was to carefree to realize that my grandma was sick, really sick and she was an alcoholic which made it worse. I just thought that the alcohol wasn’t bad at all so I sat there watching her drink her life away slowly not realizing how much time I had left until she had lost her legs and soon after would pass on. Looking back now I feel like I should have been more aware of what was going on. I could have helped her in some way.
That year she had passed away in the late month of September, I was devastated, torn apart as my mother would say, her passing was hard on me. It was out of blue and I hadn’t expected it, it was hard to comprehend on my own. But I didn’t show people how I felt of course my mother knew but she was dealing with it in her own way to even care to notice that I was depressed I would go day without eating, I would