For my funeral‚ I would like everyone I know to come to it. Also I would very appreciate it if no one cries or is sad. I would just like it if they share my memories instead of mourning over them. I don’t mind if my funeral is not that fancy‚ because I will not be there to see it‚ but I sure don’t want the mood of the funeral very melancholy. I would also like people to dress in white‚ as per our Indian culture. I do not want to be buried underground and just rot away‚ but I would like it very much
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My Grandmother’s Love Letters BY HART CRANE There are no stars tonight This first stanza is about memory‚ the letters aren’t even mentioned. Key words But those of memory. Yet how much room for memory there is In the loose girdle of soft rain. There is even room enough For the letters of my mother’s mother‚ Elizabeth‚ That have been pressed so long Into a corner of the roof That they are brown and soft‚ The second stanza is about his memory of the letters. He is saying there is enough room in
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The Demise of My Grandmother Knowing My Grandmother Would Die in a Few Days Death can be cruel sometimes. It can replace happiness with grief and sorrow. It could take the life of any person without expecting it. But some‚ especially old people‚ like my paternal grandmother are given an expected date of expiration. You see‚ my grandmother had cancer. She was not ruffled by the news; in fact‚ she was the most calm among those around her. My grandmother was a woman of strong will. Her courage and
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her and my plane to Philadelphia would be leaving in 5 hours. I didn’t want to miss seeing her this week because last week I couldn’t make it. “I forgot the cookies! I never forget the cookies. Why did I forget them today?” I thought. I stopped at the pharmacy on my way there and bought her favorite‚ "Oreos." “Darn‚ is my skirt too short today? Will the nun let me in?” I continued to worry since I only had 40 minutes left of visiting time. When I arrived‚ I jumped out of the car and pulled my skirt
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2010 My Grandmother’s Funeral: In every culture on our planet Earth‚ death is a part of life. Whether loved ones and friends of the deceased choose burial through internment‚ or produce ashes in a crematory‚ there is always a respectable method in which to dispose of the body and say a last farewell. In history‚ the Neanderthals were the first hominids to intentionally bury their dead. They did so by using stone tools and animal bones to dig a grave [1]. The purpose of a funeral in today’s
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My grandmother’s house. I open door of the car and walked towards the house‚ it looked so dead it was hard to believe that at one time someone actually lived here. I started to walk up the cracked stones and I got to the front door and took a deep turned the handle to the door and walked in breath‚ as I open the door all the dust rushed towards the door. I stood in the hallway and took a look around things looked different a lot different compared to how it looked at Christmas since it looked
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kind of rare for a kid like me to have a great grandmother as a part of your life; especially in this generation. I’m one of the lucky ones who had one. So‚ I was tasked to stand in front of you guys and deliver a speech about how great a person my great grandmother was. But to tell you the truth‚ I really don’t have much to say. Yes‚ I was lucky to have such a sweet and loving granny like her. The problem is‚ I didn’t quite take advantage of it. My brother and I were always dropped off at her
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If the phrase “You have one year to live‚” ever came from the lips of my doctor‚ fleshly the first thing I would do is weep. I would crash into my mommy’s arms and my daddy’s strong chest as we shook and cried together walking to the car. During the drive home staring out of the window‚ pulling out of my brain all of my favorite joys in life that would soon be no more. Joys such as reading the Bible before bed with my parents‚ trips to Elcharro’s after church on Sundays‚ Christmas shopping every
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this paper‚ I really wanted to focus on my mother’s side of the family‚ particularly on my grandmother’s ancestors‚ whose history I honestly knew little about. I had a considerable amount of knowledge about my father’s side of the family‚ who I at one point I researched extensively‚ finding ties back to the American Revolution. It was with my mother’s side of the family that I had really never had the time to properly look at. To begin with‚ I spoke with my grandfather‚ who is a second generation
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lived with my grandmother until I became a teen. I remember my grandmother was very old fashion but she was a terrific mother and an amazing wife. I believe she was over all a wonderful woman. The first time I recall of becoming aware of my gender is when I remember how my grandmother defined her gender role. I use to remember how my grandmother use to keep the house clean and have dinner ready for my grandfather before he comes home from work. Secondly‚ when I was younger my grandmother used to dress
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