From time to time my grandpa would stop to visit and take us to his ranch; those were the good old days. My relationship with my grandfather was unique in a way, sometimes he would be there and sometimes he we would not. He was the closest thing I had to having a grandpa and so I loved him regardless of his absence in my life. I felt no need to judge him and none to question him for the choices he made, he was the father of my father; therefore, I respected him. Thinking back, I remember when he use to take us fishing that must have been ten years ago.
My grandma told my parents to take me to the 24 hour clinic across the street. When they did the doctor proved my grandma was correct and from there I was rushed to the hospital. I am very close to my grandma she has been a huge part of my life every since I opened my eyes. She moved from Egypt to America when my sister was born and decided to stay here instead of going back to Egypt. When I was little we would play all sorts of games together.
Me living with my grandparents all my life changed me. My mom always bought things for me and came to visit. Her visiting was the worst tho because she never stayed for long. How I felt in school with everyone talking about how great they mom was, I had nothing to say because I didn't know her. My grandparents were my care takers, so when my mom came back home from the navy, it took me time to get to know her personally.
My grandmother loved my grandfather so much she was always by his side twenty four hours a day caring for him. She had nurses to help her out since taking care of him was a full time job. My grandmother knew putting him in a home would only make him sicker, and she wanted him to have the best she could provide for him in his last days. My grandmother’s role in my grandfather's life has shown me what unconditional love truly is. In the short story, “The Moths”, by Helena Maria Viramontes, a Latin girl is unconditionally taking care of her dying grandmother.
I wrote this essay because I wanted to know how my grandma's life influences mine, and I wanted my readers to know that even the differences could become one's inspiration and supports. At first, I had a hard time to pick a role model, because I had so many of them that I didn't know which one would be suitable to write about. However, after reading Raymond Carver, Mentor, I thought I could write about people who are close to me. For this reason, I chose my grandma. While I was writing this essay, what’s interesting was I realized that my grandma's life is completely different from mine.
Most of all I am thankful for my mother. She did not have to immigrate to the United States for me, which makes me appreciate that my future success would be because of her. I must say my experience being in a third world country was not just a vacation but it was a life changing stage that had turned me into a humble, generous, and thankful individual today. Do not get me wrong the first time I found out, I was going to a place like this I thought was God punishing me terribly. Given that, I had to get used to their living conditions, food and seeing what they do just to survive each day has taught me more than my characteristics of the person I am now.
It was there that my grandfather became an altar boy, played on several sports teams, and met his childhood friends. He thoroughly enjoyed being an altar boy and singing in the church choir as a creative outlet, and loved sports for the active, physical aspects. My grandfather described his early childhood as happy, with his parents being strict enough to guide him in a positive direction, yet lenient enough to let him be his own person. He attributes his success and happiness in his childhood to the fact that, with his mother being a stay at home mom, she was able to dedicate her time and resources to my grandfather and his siblings, ensuring that they did well in school, ate healthy meals, went to church, and participated in other social
I would just hold her hand and talked to her. The evening before she passed away as I was leaving she mumble to me “I love you Sunshine, thank for you for always being there”. Although I knew I impacted her life I never really realized how much until her daughter called me letting me know she passed away. Her daughter told me how thankful their family was that there was someone who cared and protected their mother. She had told me that they wanted to move her mom from the facility after they would not accommodate her needs.
They've raised me, loved me, held my hand, wiped my tears and been there to talk to regardless of the situation. They came to my all my school and sports events. They've helped me through painful times and celebrated with me. Still, like most adoptees at some point, I felt a void in not knowing where I came from. I had long known that I was adopted as a toddler and that my birth mother had died in a car accident several years after I was born, however, there has never been a word mentioned about my birth father, apart from the fact that his name was General Charles Murphy.