This is my fifth blog post and for this one I will be writing about an emotional moment I shared with someone I had in my life using descriptive language that should make it emotional for the person reading it. Its theme should be similar to Maya Angolou’s theme in “My Name is Margaret” because both will have moments where we’re young children.
I was playing videogames with my when my mom came in said "I got something I gotta tell you guys" in a very somber tone. We pause the game and when we looked over we over and saw our mom hunched over with her head down and her face red and lifeless. I immediately ask "What's wrong Mom?" because I could see and hear her lack of energy. She gets choked up as she struggles to say "Pop pop is gone." Before I could even think about it I rush to hug her as tight as I could. As I hugged her I could feel her tears falling onto my shoulder as they were being absorbed by my shirt. I could feel her body getting weaker by the second and that's when my other brother came to hug as too and that's the first time I had ever seen him cry and after everyone's face was red. At that moment the air felt so heavy and I felt as dense as rock but also as vulnerable as a feather. My grandfather had cancer and was diagnosed as terminally ill for about a month before he passed so that gave me and my family time to process and think about what’s going to happen. Despite that though, it was still very hard for me emotionally because I was very close with him. He was a great cook and loved doing it so most of my best moments with him took place in his kitchen and I didn’t mind at all because I loved to eat and his food was amazing. When he was alive, whenever I took one step into his house the savory smell of fried chicken or pork chops hit my nostrils and gets me excited to eat. The moment I smell it it immediately dash to the kitchen which is in the back of the house while I enter the front and every time I do it I notice but disregard my grandmom screamed “STOP RUNNING TRE!” Then once I get to the kitchen, he’s always there waiting for me with his arms open and ready for a hug. His hugs are even better than his cooking because he always made me feel cozy in his arms. So the day before he passed away me and my family were expecting it but we weren't expecting how much it would hurt us internally. We went to go see him and the whole ride home it was ominously silent and there was a subtle sense of doom in the air. When we get there my grandmom simply says "Hey y'all" in a low tone with her head down. We all say hey without even looking at her and you make our way to our granddad laying down. He was very weak looking compared to how he usually is and couldn't raise his arms to give us a hug.
2 Comments
Sabatino
2/18/2020 01:27:12 pm
Glad to see content. Let'ts discuss how to complete this post, okay?
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Erin
2/19/2020 09:36:52 am
I really liked your story, Your grandfather seemed like a great guy, I bet the food he made was really good.
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Red RiverI'm a man of few words but I will use this blog to make sure whatever I write is meaningful to me and hopefully to others as well. ArchivesCategories |