Personal Narrative: Death Is Inevitable Loss

Everyone deals with the loss of a loved one in their own separate ways. In my life, loss is what has shaped me into who I am today. Over these seventeen years, I have gone through many losses in my family: an older brother to suicide, an uncle to colon cancer, a grandmother to a heart attack, however, there is one loss in particular, that has changed me in more ways than one.

My hands became clammy and my heart started racing. I did not want to believe the words coming out of my mother’s lips, “His kidney failed three weeks after the operation, he is dead”. I was just 5 years old and I felt like there was no purpose to live. My father was everything to me. I already missed his genuine kindness, the way his smile formed whenever he talked to me about life, and the times where we had father-son time at the airport, watching airplanes fly. Standing there looking into my mother’s eyes filled with intent and worries, I was speechless. At this instant, I was able to budge a smile and move myself, despite being frozen from the news, to embrace my now widowed mother. Despite this tragic event, my dad had a dream, a vision that his two sons would achieve the American Dream filled with infinite opportunities that can be obtained with a higher education. To this day, I continually strive to live up to the American Dream my dad envisioned for me.

Growing up, I’d always thought that death was the worst thing that could ever happen to a person, but it wasn’t until halfway through my sophomore year that I discover the truth. I had never really thought about the horror of watching someone you love wither away into a shadow of their former self; that was something that happened in books and movies, not in real life and definitely not to me.

I was fifteen years old, the night before her death she calls all her friends on the phone with closes friends. The morning before she dies, she didn’t say word to me at all. I went to school like regular normal day laughing at my friend jokes and eating school

“Ting, tong, tong, tong, ting, tong, tong, tong,” the doctor beat echos through the bitter cold October air in the early hours of a Saturday morning. It’s marching season. Band kids across northern Indiana are hard at work perfecting their show for competition that has yet to come in the afternoon. The past three months have been used to learn and fine tune their show to it 's best. Long hours of hard work, sweat, tears, dedication, time, love, and much more is put into a band program and what comes out of it is a strong group of individuals who have the ability to do great things in life. Lessons that you learn during the course of your marching band career will stay with you for the

“I’m so sorry. He died at the scene of the wreck. The Truck landed on him and killed him instantly.”

I never was really close with my grandfather. I’ve pretty much lived in Utah my whole life. I was born in Richland, Washington, but I have no memories of living there because my family moved here, to Utah, when I was two. The majority of my family, from both my mother’s and my father’s side, live in the northwest. I only go to Washington/Oregon maybe once a year. Even when I go I don’t see the majority of my family. Both my mother and my father have had issues with their parents and some of their siblings, which is why we don’t visit most of them. When I was younger, I went to my grandparent’s house in Pasco, Washington every summer. Even then, it was just me, my sister, and my grandmother. My grandfather

As the crow flew across the sky, I felt a thick breeze of wind hit me in the face, I heard several voices talking a language I'd never heard before. I was born in southern Europe, and everyone around me was just another figure. I saw men, women, and tiny children, looking like they had been starving for quite some time. I, however did not look much different, but I guess it is the thought of more people starving than just myself.

No one really thinks a natural disaster so disastrous could happen in a place where millions live. A place where many visit and movies are shot. California is the place, and along with the San Andreas fault. A fault where it could destroy California and kill many.

Each and every time my mother responded either by doing what I asked, like cuddling with me, or by answering my questions and saying, “You were deathly allergic to an antibiotic they gave you. You can’t leave just yet. Who’s Brunner? You missed the volleyball game last night and the girls are worried about you. Today’s Friday Jocey. You missed two days of school. Ryan had to go home because he had school today. He wanted to stay, but he knew you would be angry if he didn’t go to school.”

My dad was picking my brother and I up from school. We noticed how sad he looked; he was on the edge of tears. When we asked what was wrong he broke down. He told us our grandfather, his father, passed away. I’ll always remember that moment. This event was another situation where I didn’t fully understand what was going on. Another big part of why I’ll remember that day was because it was the first family member I had lost. After this happened, I look back and think of how much I miss him.

After a death or loss of something close, people usually react similarly by going through the five stages of grief. These stages include denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. During a death of my Great Aunt, my family went through the stages of grief. I was close with her when I was younger, but I do not have many memories I remember with her so I did not experience much grief. On the other hand, my Great Uncle went through a lot of grief since she was his older sister.

Losing someone you love dearly is one of the hardest things anyone can go through. Sometimes it hurts so bad that you may yourself, “What’s the point of being here anymore?” I ask myself that question all the time, ever since my Grandmother passed away.

I watched my mother fade away slowly as she was battling pancreatic cancer. I looked after her everyday as best as I could; however, the feeling of my eventual solitude was unbearable.The thought of my mother’s imminent demise made me feel like my heart was being continuously stabbed. Watching my mother suffer was one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. After her passing; something changed in me, darkness filled where love once was. I always knew deep down, that my mum was not going to make it; however, knowing this did not make it any easier.

In Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 1981 novella Chronicle of a Death Foretold, the narrative recounts the events leading up to the eventual murder of bachelor Santiago Nasar, a man accused of taking the virginity of the defrocked bride Angela Vicario despite the lack of evidence to prove the claim, and the reactions of the citizens who knew of the arrangement to sacrifice Nasar for the sake of honor. This highly intricate novella incorporates a range of literary techniques, all of which are for the readers to determine who is really to blame for Santiago Nasar’s death. Marquez uses techniques such as foreshadowing and the structure of narrative, along with themes such as violence, religion, and guilt to address the question of blame. Although Santiago