Grandmas Passing
Grandma was a frail older woman, in her early 70's, and of small stature. Her skin was of a light brown complexion, wrinkled and ashy. When I sat on her knee, her brittle hands would always gently wrap around my waist. I would kiss her on her cheek, which was always cold for some reason. Grandma always wore dark blue dresses that came down to her ankles and an old pair of black dress shoes everywhere. You know, the ones with no heels that appear as if they are slippers. She was old fashioned, and didn't hesitate to instruct my dad to switch me ifI stepped out of line. Grandma was soft-spoken, but firm; I never back-talked her for fear of the painful consequences my dad would inflict on my legs.I remember one time I had acted up; oh I paid for that one. It had just rained, saturating the earth in the back yard beyond capacity. Mud puddles were everywhere; they were enormous filled with dirty grimy water. These mud puddles were everything a kid could dream of; they were irresistible. My cousins and I jumped, stomped, splashed, and rolled in the mud puddles; we had a great time. My grandma had told us kids not to track mud through the house, but I was having too much fun with my cousins to take he
I couldn't think of anything else to say, I was petrified. The television was still on top of the makeshift T. There were blue, white, and yellow flowers arranged in rows boarding her gravesite. I did as ordered, and subsequently was beaten for my insolence. My father came, took one look at the carpet, and instructed me to retrieve the switch. She said Grandma had lived a good life and was at peace with what happened. As we walked to the church, I noticed that the sky was gray with dark clouds hovering above our heads. After a while, I calmed down and wiped the tears away from my eyes. We returned to our seats, and soon afterwards, the wake was finished. The church, a relatively small building, was nearly packed as we tried to enter through the archway. The aged brown recliner with a wooden handle was still there where grandma used to let me sit on her lap. I wondered if I could ever connect with anyone as I did with my grandmother; that special bond between us, could I ever experience something similar? I still ponder these thoughts periodically, hoping to encounter that special bond I treasur. We drove to the cemetery, a few minutes away, where Grandma was to be buried. My dad ordered us to bed, as we had a long day approaching. The service commenced soon afterwards, and the preacher began his sermon.
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Acceptance Essays
