grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
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Late afternoon sun slips between the plastic slats of the blinds, painting parallel lines in the room. The stripes melt over the edge of the mattress and land on the floor, getting wider and wider as they go. I sit on the bed, watching my grandfather. They moved him to the “rehabilitation center” today (it’s not a nursing home, everyone insists) after spending time in the hospital. I know this is a turning point in our lives. He won’t go home again.
By Paula J Peckham5 years ago in Families
The Devil Face Dollar Bill
It had been a week since the passing of my beloved grandmother and four days since saying said my final goodbyes at the funeral. She was my favourite person and would continue to hold that title until my dying day. She had had a good life living to the age of ninety-nine, only a month shy of her hundredth birthday. I had taken the task of going through all the belongings in her home, though this was done out of love, it was also so I could possibly find the diary she had left me in her will. I had felt a sense of honour being left the diary of a woman who had led such a full life, and yet no one knew where she kept such a cherished item. The final evening of my stay in the house, I decided that I would sleep in her bed as the couch was starting to put a permanent kink in my neck. To some, the thought of sleeping in the bed where their grandmother had quietly passed in her sleep may have seemed morbid or obscure in the least, but after outfitting it with clean sheets and my favourite comforter that I brought from home, I felt more at peace than I had the entire week.
By Tara Gerhart5 years ago in Families
Pearl's Gift
Pearl’s Gift “Hi, would you like to buy some perfume,” says a little girl with dirty blonde hair as I walk around the corner. Her voice is a pleasant interruption to my daily stroll through the neighborhood park. She points to her display of glass bottles. Some are colored brown, some blue and several clear. Each one is filled with varying degrees of what appear to be mucky green pond water. “You can pick which ever one you want” she says. Stepping up to the wooden board strew across two rocks for a makeshift shelf, I admire her collection. “Wow, where did they come from?” I inquire. “Me and my brother found them.” She answers happily and she points into the grove of trees behind her. Then I see an older boy that is the spitting image of her carrying even more treasures to put on display in their market. He stumbles up the hill with a rusted can, a plastic cup from a local fast food restaurant and more bottles in his hands. The quarry several feet down the slope seems to serve as the warehouse to replenish their inventory. “Okay, I think I like this pretty blue one.” I say and pretend to smell the make believe “perfume”. “Twenty- five cents please.” she states. I dig in my coat pocket hoping to find some loose change. Mixed in with my car keys and some crumpled up tissues, I find a quarter. When I hand it over, she exchanges the bottle with a big smile. A grin passes between the two siblings in honor of their transaction.
By Theresa Yantz5 years ago in Families
Grandpa's loose floorboard
In quite some time, Sarah had not been home. As she sat on the train pondering about the last time she had been there, she felt her stomach was in Knots. She had an argument with her mother and stormed out the door. Sarah had not spoken to her for more than 10 years. If it were not for the passing of her grandfather Sarah would not be returning. Sarah felt his Absence already. She always Kept IN touch with him calling him every week since she had moved away. Sarah was his favorite grandchild and was not concerned with making it quite obvious . Now after all these years gone by she will see her mother not to mention her aunts and uncles with her cousins. Sadly it will be bitter sweet as much as she has missed them. The fact remains everyone is there to say their goodbyes to grandpa.
By Sharon Marcano5 years ago in Families
The Gift
40. That's how old I am going to turn on Sunday. Tomorrow. I was going to be 40, tomorrow. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't see any lines or wrinkles to confirm that. I always made it a point to celebrate my birthday every year, because to me life is a blessing and we should always embrace it.
By Liss Suarez5 years ago in Families
Lost Hope
“Could life go any more wrong?” That is what I thought to myself as I sat in the chair across from my grandfather’s hospital bed. There I was watching his life slip away as his body was devoured by sepsis. His once smooth ebony chocolate skin was now a gray-scaled leather. My thoughts continuously drowned out by the beeping of his heart monitor machine and inconsistent heartbeat. He mustered up enough strength to beckon me over to his bedside with his pointing finger. I quickly wiped the tears away from eyes and walked towards him. As I leaned in closer to hear his whispers, he slowly placed his hand over mine.
By Samantha Martin5 years ago in Families
Dead Man's Last Wish
The flight to Minnesota was short, but felt long. I never expected having to fly back home to attend a funeral for a grandfather who refused to acknowledge that I even existed. Hiding out in the funeral parlor's extra-small bathroom, I stared at my reflection, anxiously adjusting my tie and fixing my hair. It was all just too much. Mother had insisted I attend, stating that, “Grandpa George would want you here.” Yeah, I doubt that.
By Victoria Gordon5 years ago in Families
The Scavenger Hunt
Everyone knew it was coming. The small things she was starting to forget, the constant sleep, the weird eating habits. Death is a cruel and heartless bitch. Grandma Elaine was already getting old, but it never makes it any easier. Almost reaching her 97th trip around the sun, Grandma Elaine finally slipped away in her sleep just a week before her birthday.
By Laura Michelle5 years ago in Families
The Little Black Book
Ms. Daisy was an elderly woman who lived alone. She had children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. One particular grandson, Lewis would check on Ms. Daisy more often than the others. He would sit and talk to her for hours at a time. He would do some grocery shopping for her every now and then on the weekends. He would also clean her home when she was unable to do so. He would clean every room and area in her home. He wouldn't miss a spot. Ms. Daisy was a lover of books. She enjoyed reading books. She had a particular bookshelf where she kept her favorite books that had a significant meaning to her. Lewis wasnt quite a reader, he could read but he just wasn't a fan of reading. One day while cleaning, Lewis noticed that most of the books on Ms. Daisy's shelf were large in size. However there was a small, black book that appeared to be more worn than the larger books. He asked his grandmother, Miss Daisy why does she read the little, black book more than the others? She replies, "The biggest treasures are in the smallest containers." Lewis decided that whatever was in that book had to be good because his grandmother read from it everyday and placed it back on the shelf after reading it. As days and years went by, Lewis continued to notice how Ms. Daisy embraced this book.
By Yonta Brown5 years ago in Families
Dear Walter,
Dear Walter, A part of me wants to begin this letter with a cliché, "Hey Grandpa, it's been a while." In some ways, it has been almost 17 years now. In others, I speak to you in my mind almost every day. You were the first grandfather that I ever lost. You were the first casket I ever viewed. When I remember you in my mind, it is not the image of you in your last days with the cancer. I do not believe that is how you would want any of us to remember you. Your death was my first lesson in how to handle loss.
By brooke vecchi5 years ago in Families
