Category: Grandmother

My world shattered completely as I listened to my mom talking through the phone. My grandma, one of the people whom I cherished in this world, was diagnosed with heart disease. After school, I went to the hospital where my grandma is admitted. The smell of alcohol welcomed me as I ran towards my grandma’s room, which is on the third floor. I opened the door, and saw one of the most terrifying sights I have ever seen: my grandma lying on the bed unconscious and have a lot of different medical equipment attached to her body. I went straight to her bed and held her cold hands as I prayed to God to wake me up from this horrible nightmare. As I was praying, flashbacks of my healthy and happy grandma teaching me how to cook and constantly reminded me to always value each and every blessing that came to my life. My trembling hands covered my face as tears ran down. I went back to her room and bid my goodbyes.

The next day, I was reluctant to attend school. Classes became very difficult for me emotionally and mentally. I felt like I lost my inspiration to work hard and do well. This is because my grandma was one of the people who would encourage and motivated me to always do my best. I started drifting away from my friend and wanted some time alone. They became suspicious and tried to confront me; however, I ignored them. The reason of this is I didn’t want to be pitied by others because I didn’t want to be perceived as weak and vulnerable. Few days later, I got a call from my dad telling me my grandma is awake. The world suddenly became bright as heavy rocks lifted away from my shoulders. My dad picked me up from school; we decided to buy fruits and flowers for my grandma. A few minutes later, we arrived at the hospital. I saw my weak grandma sitting on her bed. Her eyes seemed to be tired, however, she managed to give me a smile. I tried to hold my tears back because I didn’t want her to be worried. I visited my grandma every day and witnessed how she slowly lose weight and her dark circles became more visible. But I saw determination in her eyes that she’ll get rid of this sickness. My grandma experienced a lot in the hospital and yet kept her hope. After all her treatments, my grandma slowly gained her strength.

The hope and determination I saw in my grandma’s eyes has inspired me to become the best person I can, to not only strive for my goals but to accomplish them. I realized no matter how much she struggled on her sickness, she managed to stand on her own two feet again. I applied this to my academic performance since I noticed that my grades are dropping to Bs and to Cs. It was a struggle for me to catch up on my APs because I was behind on all the readings. I changed my habits and became more attentive in lessons. Furthermore, I would go to study groups or visit my teachers during office hours to ask questions on topics I don’t understand. I began seeing As and Bs on my report card, which made me satisfied. By now, I have made a promise to myself, and my family to work to the best of my ability. My greatest nightmare became one of my greatest motivation.

This letter was about my appreciation and gratitude into what my grandma did for me now and when I was a child. I wanted to emphasis the fact that she didn’t have to look after me, but she chose to, and I was and still am grateful for that. I wanted to thank her also as she was there for me when my mum wasn’t and treated me like her son. I used an example of her caring for me, which was teaching me Kumon as an example when I was in primary school, because she would always take out a large amount of her time in her day just for me as I struggled with math. This helped me immensely with my math in school and I find it much easier now. I wanted her to know that she had made my life significantly easier and happier with what she did. I mentioned how she had to look after 5 children when she was a mum and that it was her time to relax as she is a grandmother now, but instead she basically took me and my sister in and treated us like her own children. She would cook for us, help us with homework and tuck us in to bed when we were kids and that I was still forever grateful at her kindness to me. I made sure to stress how much I love her and that I was forever in her debt.

My grandma was another mum to me. As I said before, she cooked for me, put a roof over my head, helped me with homework, showed me unconditional love and more. She treated me like a son, so I have treated her like my own mum. She was like an angel to me. She helped me when my mum was struggling looking after us. When we almost got kicked out of the unit we were living in, my grandma took my sister and I in and we lived in her house for 6 years while my mum tried to find a job and get a house. My grandma saved us from being homeless which is why I believe she was my 2nd mum and an angel.

When revealing the letter to my grandma, she looked confused, but her expression instantly turned to a smile when she knew what the surprise was about. Her smile was constant throughout me reading my letter until halfway her expression changed. She rubbed her eyes and I started to notice her eyes watering. I was struggling to read the letter as I also started getting emotional, but I finished the letter. By the end, I realized that she was crying, and I made sure to comfort her by hugging her. We hugged for a minute and she was talking about how she appreciates me, and I give her strength as she is religious and I was happy that she knew I was grateful for her.

Making the letter made me feel how lucky I was to have someone like her, and I was just grateful that she was a part of my childhood and my life so far. When reading the letter, I felt emotional as she was started to cry, and I was feeling happy that she knew that I hadn’t taken her for granted. Overall, it made me happy that I got to thank my grandma for helping me during tough times and that she knew that she made my life much easier.

Every Saturday morning, I’d awaken to the odor of beaten garlic and piquant pepper. I would stumble into the kitchen to discover my grandma squatting over a large silver bowl, mixing fat lips of clean cabbages with garlic, salt, and crimson pepper. That used to be how the delectable Korean dish, kimchi, was born every and every weekend at my home.

My grandma’s uniqueness continuously dominated the dinner desk as kimchi stuffed every plate. And like my grandma who had normally been dwelling with us, it regarded as even although the luscious scent of garlic would in no way go away our home. But even the prided recipe used to be defenseless in opposition to the ravages of Alzheimer’s that inflicted my grandma’s mind.

Dementia slowly fed on her reminiscences till she grew to be as clean as a brand-new notebook. The ritualistic rigor of Saturday mornings acquired here to a pause, and at some stage in dinner, the synthetic style of vacuum-packaged factory kimchi solely emphasized the absence of the household tradition. I would appear to be at her and ask: “Grandma, what’s my name?”, but she would stare returned at me with a clueless expression. For 12 months after her diagnosis, she lived with us like an entire stranger.

One day, my mom delivered home smooth cabbages and pink pepper sauce. She delivered out the historical silver bowl and poured out the cabbages, smothering them with garlic and salt and pepper. The acquainted tangy odor tingled my nose. Gingerly, my grandma stood up from the sofa in the dwelling room, and as if lured by using way of the smell, sat via the usage of the silver bowl and dug her palms into the spiced cabbages. As her bony fingers shredded the inexperienced lips, a look of willpower grew on her face. Though her withered palms no longer displayed the swiftness and precision they as soon as did, her face verified the aged rigor of a professional. For the first time in years, the scent of garlic stuffed the air and the rattling of the silver bowl resonated at some stage in the house. That night, we ate kimchi. It wasn’t perfect; the cabbages had been clumsily reduced and the garlic was once a little too strong. But kimchi had in no way tasted better. I on the other hand consider my grandma inserting a piece in my mouth and saying, “Here, Dong Jin. Try it, my boy”.

Seeing grandma again this summer, that second of readability seemed ephemeral. Her raveled hair and expressionless face informed of the aggressive improvement of her illness. But preserving her hands, looking out into her eyes, I may want to nevertheless smell that garlic. The moments of Saturday mornings remain ingrained in my mind. Grandma used to be an artist who painted the cabbages with strokes of crimson pepper. Like the candy style of kimchi, I hope to capture these memories in my keystrokes as I type away these words.

A piece of writing is greater than simply a piece of writing. It evokes. It inspires. It captures what time takes away.

My grandma used to say: “Tigers depart furs when they die, human beings depart their names”. Her legacy was once the scent of garlic that lingered spherical my house. Mine will be these words.

The Merriam Webster’s dictionary states that a life span is the average length of life of a kind of organism or of a material object, especially in a particular environment or under specified circumstances. It is basically the length of time in which a person or animal lives or a thing functions. The process of this paper is to write about the life of such a strong and independent woman who has had so much impact in my life. From the good to the bad, she had motivated me to be the person that I am today. During the time of her being alive, i would have small mental breakdowns and life was just not as grieving as it is right now. The passing of my grandmother has changed my perception of life and how I view things.

What is a lifespan? The Merriam Webster’s dictionary states that a life span is the average length of life of a kind of organism or of a material object, especially in a particular environment or under specified circumstances (Merriam-Webster Dictionary 1928). There are specific things I would like to write about. I would be writing about the life of someone that will always hold a special place in my heart. This person has affected me in so many ways that no words can explain. From the way I think, talk, and walk.

I would just like to start off with inputting a little information about this person. The arrival of this specific person was on the 3rd of November in the year of 1953. She has been a role model in the lives of those who she crossed paths with. Although she was disliked by some people, it never stopped her from loving those certain people. She brought smiles everywhere she went even when she knew she wasn’t okay. A God-fearing lady was who she was. She was born and raised in Fitiuta Manu’a, and had to move to Tutuila for financial reasons. My great grand-mother (rest in peace) then moved with my grandmother to what is known now Atu’u. This is where it all began.

Fast forward to when I was born, my grandma did not want to be in any contact with my parents because she told them that she did not want a girl. All of this information was obtained from my parents. Anyways, as I turned 3 months, my grandma decided to accept the fact that I was a girl and she should try to make connections with her grand-daughter. As my parents are telling me this, tears are flowing non-stop all because of such a reaction I have received from my own grandmother. My parents also said that my grandmother would only ask for my brothers at times and would not ask for me because she felt as if I did not deserve her love and affectionate but my brothers. The things I did not understand for I was too young to even understand. My brother and I were born on the same year yet different months. My parents told me that when my brother turned 1, he had everything a little boy could ever ask for. When I turned 1, my grandma decided to take my brothers to Lions Park and acted as if it was not someone’s birthday.

I never really understood what had happened in my life when I was younger, but I would say it is better that I did not understand the way she acted. I remember when I was a third grader at Aua Elementary School, my grandma came to pick my brothers and I from school, except she picked up only my brothers and left me at school. As a youngster I would follow random kids hopping on a school bus even when I had no idea where it was heading. As I was on the bus, the kind hearted bus driver, I believe was from Alofau, asked me where I lived because I looked like a lost boy from Neverland. I remember telling him I was from the village of Atu’u, and we were already in the village of Alega. He asked me who my dad was and I told him that my dad was George and he immediately stopped his bus, called my dad and told my dad I was on his bus. My dad picked me up and scolded me while I was just a little confused about the situation. When we both arrived to our other house in Atu’u, my grandma dragged me out of my dad’s working car and had beaten me up for not coming with my bothers. After beating me up I remember being in the hospital because I have fainted. I was weak and had a fractured rib and broke my arm because my grandma pushed me down the stairs. I woke up to the sight of my dad talking to the doctors about my condition and just dozed out again.

My 6th grade was when I started to understand what was going on in my world. I have experienced the physical and biological changes within my body. This was a phase in life called puberty. As we have learned in class a few weeks back, puberty involves dramatic biological changes. These changes are a part of a long, complex process of maturation that begins even before birth, and their psychological ramifications may continue into adulthood. As I was experiencing puberty, my grandma never really paid attention to what was going on. I felt mad at the world and had suicidal thoughts. I didn’t know what to do but try to call my mom who was living in Lauli’i at the time. You may ask why I’m staying at my grandma’s place but it was because she needed someone to help her with chores at the house. My grandma never really wanted me to come to my mom’s family and again I never really understood why. Throughout my whole childhood phase, I was basically brought up as a boy. I acted like one and I had done what boys do. I never really knew what a ‘girl’ really was. As I was entering the teenager phase, I sat down with my grandma and she had opened up to me about why she was always so hard on me. She told me that she never really meant to treat me the way she did, but instead she did because that was how she was treated when she was young. I have felt so many mixed emotions because on some nights I would consider committing suicide because I thought my own family and my own blood do not even care about. Ever since then, I had anger issues, and would cause problems in school such as fighting. During our vacation in Hawaii on the year of 2013, something had triggered my anger disorder that caused me to beat up my boy cousin. It was so bad, my parents had to seek treatment for my anger problems. We have found a therapist who could treat such a disorder. The treatment was called cognitive behavioral therapy. This is one of the most common types of psychotherapy is cognitive behavioral therapy. The purpose of the treatment is to help an angry person recognize the self-defeating negative thoughts that lie behind anger flare-ups. Patients work with a mental health professional to learn how to manage stressful life circumstances more successfully. This therapy helped me manage my anger problems in the most difficult situations. I had to stay in Hawaii for about 5 months just so I could be able to control my anger problems.

I returned back to Samoa in the summer, and my grandma had told me that I was making progress in handling and dealing with my anger issues. This was when I had all of my 4 sisters. I was an eighth grader and my grandma had a lot of high expectations, since she thought I do not have any more anger problems. I had problems with talking back to my parents and elders in my family. I would run away at times, because I did not know what to do but just to isolate myself from the bad vibes. She had pressured me into participating in different activities in school such as Math in Art, Science Fair, and History Day. I was not interested in any of these things because I was antisocial and did not have any friends to help me with it. As a result of all this pressure, my anger issues had gotten worse and my grandma was scared of who I was becoming. My dad at this time was a coach for the AYFS team 49er’s. My brothers would always bug me about playing but I was also not interested. One night my older brother Puka, came and talked me into playing football. He told me I could use all this anger in me to play such a sport. On October 21st, I woke up and I decided to play football. As we all may think, football is only for boys, but for this girl, football was a way of letting out my anger. I played on the team called ‘Falcons’. On the first week of practice my grandma was very concerned about my decision so she decided to come home early from work just so she could sit in her car and watch me. I was shy at first until a kid called me ‘Big Mama’. After drills, about 15 minutes before practice finishes, our team would run our plays. I was on defense and this kid was on offense. We had called our first play which was ‘Mississippi’ and I instantly knew that this was my opportunity to show this kid who ‘Big Mama’ really was. My grandma was surprised and she came to every single one of my games. I was always positive after every game and my grandma would always have this huge smile on her face. For a person who was put through so much, it made my heart happy that I have finally made my mama proud. Football has changed my life for the better. I would talk back to the coaches except my dad. I would threat some boys on the team because they would label as girly girl. They didn’t know when I crossed that wall at Onesosopo Park, I see myself equivalent to the boys. I got to see what I could and could not do.

At this stage of life was when I really understood what a girl really was. I also experienced my puberty phase. As we learned in class, girls are more likely to go through puberty than guys. My grandma had taught ways a girl should properly sit, walk, talk, and how a ‘girl’ should properly present themself. I had joined the Sunday school, choir, and the youth group. She has encouraged me to be a God-fearing woman. She has taught me how to speak with manners to people with high titles, even if it means that they have scolded me out of nowhere. She has taught me how to read the Bible in the Samoan language. She has taught me everything I know today. The way I cope with my anger issues have changed ever since this woman, lend me a helping hand. Who would have known my worst nightmare, will be my greatest blessing. I have taken first place in Aoga Samoa ever since 2nd grade up to 7th grade Aoga Samoa. My mama was the proudest, and was then my number 1 supporter.

It was my eighth grade graduation, and my grandma had to fly out to Texas for medical reasons. I really wished she was there to witness such a life changing event. I was in total shock when I was announced to be 2nd place overall for Aua Elementary School Class of 2014. I was in total shock I tell you, but the reaction from my grandma really made my heart happy. I never thought my grandma and I would ever mend a broken relationship, especially what she has put me through. The feeling of accomplishing something you ever expected but worked hard for is unexplainable. This woman has made the madness in me calm. At times I would sit and think all this anger began with her, and it had to heal with her.

Ever since my grandma and I started bonding, I was addicted to her love because I have never felt the love she showed me from anyone else. Although my sister’s kind of took over, but I was so obsessed with my grandma. The summer before starting high school, she had told me that she wanted me to join the National Honor Society, because my older brother had disappointed her. I told her that if I do not make it just understand that I tried. My grandma is the kind of person who will continue to have faith in you even if it meant you failed multiple times. During my freshmen year of high school, I had developed feelings for a guy I never thought I would be in love with. Can you guess who it is? Yes, the kid who called me ‘Big Mama’. A relationship of 2 years and 5 months. My grandma again, was disappointed in me because she had a fear of me getting pregnant at such a young age, so she told me to end the relationship and focus on what was supposed to be the goal. I, myself decided to keep the relationship on the down low, because I thought no one would find out. In the tiny school of Faga’itua, everyone knew each other and the teachers knew everyone’s parents. Tell me why I thought it was a good idea to not listen? Even until this day I really would love to know the name of the teacher who snitched on me. I remember the facial expression, and the tone of my grandma’s voice. It broke my heart into pieces and I would never want to wish my grandma to shed another tear just because of me. I never really achieved anything during my freshman year.

My sophomore year was probably the most frustrating yet the funniest year in high school. I was always reminded of what goals to put first, and I remembered I always wished that I could be my brothers. My dad would give me death threats because of my grades. My grandma would encourage me to keep my grades up by sending me clothes and candies and all the good stuff from America. I had to be bribed in order for me to give them what they wanted. I was stressed, depressed, and most of all drowned in so much expectations. On March 22nd, 2016, I got inducted into the National Honor Society, the chapter of Faga’itua High School. I cried the whole time during the ceremony because I always imagined my grandma being there to witness a milestone, I have achieved just for her. She had sent me money just so I could celebrate such an achievement. It was also on that day I had found out that my grandma had cancer. Luckily it was not a malignant tumor it was a benign tumor. I had thought of what would have happened if I lost my grandma at such a young age. The only thing I thought of was to pray on such a situation man-kind could not do. The fact that I could not do anything, broke me into pieces and only motivated me to do better and accomplish what she has set out for me. Throughout my whole high school life, it was dedicated to my grandma. Even when my brothers played football. Every morning before leaving the house we would video chat our grandma just so she could bless us with what we have going on throughout the day. My grandma graduated from Carson High School, but was a die-hard Vikings fan.

I was approaching my senior and last year of high school, and I had hit rock bottom. The only person that could help me climb back to the top was my grandma. She had requested for me to stay strong and always remain my faith into the Lord. I am guessing that this was what kept me alive throughout the bumpy ride of my senior year. I have been taking SAT’s and ACT’s because I wanted to get scholarships and acceptance letters from schools I wanted to attend after I graduate. On May 10th was when I first received my acceptance letter from the Grand Canyon University with a scholarship of $75,000. I was the happiest and my grandma was so proud of me. She told me she believed in me and always instilled her faith in me. At this point of life, I knew I could do the most impossible task. As I have mentioned before, my entire high school was dedicated to my grandma, and this accomplishment was also dedicated to her. May 31st was when I got my second acceptance letter from Southern Oregon University. I felt so many mixed emotions because I never thought I could it, but guess what I did. It was time to make up my mind, to see what school I was going to attend. I had my mind set on Grand Canyon University, because they had a good nursing program and I was already interested in joining. On June 19, 2018, I graduated from Faga’itua High School with high honors, and my grandma was not there to witness my special day because of medical reason. On our way to our DDW, I noticed someone so similar sitting inside I fell to my knees thinking she was in another country. She had told me that she was proud of me and that she would never miss such an accomplishment.

The day after graduation, she had told me that she did not want me attending a school so far away from home. I was heart-broken, because I had worked so hard for everything that she has wanted and it was all a waste. I never wanted to talk to my grandma. My first semester here at the American Samoa Community College was trash. It was only because it wasn’t what I set my heart out for. My grandma gave me advice and told me to found the positivity in what I was doing. During my spring semester I had enjoyed attending ASCC (American Samoa Community College) because of a few friends I had made along the way. She would always remind me to check my advising sheet to see when I could take my nursing classes. Fall semester 2019 registration had started and I came to register, I found out from my nursing advisors that I was able to take my Certified Nursing Assistant (CNA) classes, I waited to tell her on the day I was starting. I was so excited and I was itching to tell her. Unfortunately, on August 21st 2019, was when I lost her. She spread her wings and flew to be with the Almighty. I never felt so much pain in life. I blamed myself for never telling her, but I just hope that she is proud of me.

In life, we go through the most difficult situations, but we always have to keep our heads up and keep moving forward. Things never come easy. People can have such an effect on our lives, yet we take advantage of it.

The word ‘hero’ holds significant meaning to me. A hero can be both a role model or a person who takes a bold step that requires braveness. A hero in more classical terms can also be someone who voluntarily puts their life in danger in order to save the life of another. I believe, however, that everyone has their own definition of a ‘hero’. My definition of a hero is someone who is perceptive, big hearted, and is able to teach others how to be strong. The person who I most resonate with and who is effortlessly all of these traits, would be my grandmother. She is my hero and also the one who has changed my life for the better, saving me mentally and allowing me to be the best version of myself.

When people ask me about my family, the first person that comes to mind and the one I never fail to mention, is my grandma. Family is one of the most important things to me and is one of the few places that allow me to truly be myself. They know how I feel and, to my surprise, they sometimes even understand me better than I do. My grandma epitomized these aspects of family and taught me more about myself than I knew before. Even outside of our household, she was a very intelligent woman. She was both a school principal and math teacher when she was younger. In classes, she was a strict teacher that held well-organized lessons while at the same time motivating her students to keep doing better. I still remember when I was in kindergarten, students would constantly be visiting my grandparent’s house in order to receive her guidance on the subject of math. My grandma even taught outside of her own classes, helping me to understand lessons and homework as well. She taught me mathematics and even made flash cards for me to memorize my Chinese vocabulary homework. She was a woman wise beyond her years, yet at the same time she was humble and a very patient teacher that had respect, enthusiasm and a love for teaching.

My grandma was kind to everyone she came in contact with. She could make anyone smile and radiated joy no matter where she went. Most of her former students still remember her and are constantly coming back to visit her. One of the most generous memories I can recall of my grandmother is when she let one of her students borrow 50,000 yuan to start a business, eventually resulting in the student becoming a millionaire. This student appreciated my grandma’s help so much that now she repeatedly takes my grandparents to dinner and even travels with them. While the outcome was good, I do believe my grandma is a very big-hearted person and enjoys helping others without expecting anything in return. She taught me that all people are equal and that money should not be placed as a priority. I also learned from her to never have regrets, live my life to the fullest, and enjoy the small things in life.

My grandma was not only my hero, but to me she was like a second mother. My parents had a lot of problems ever since I was little, thus she was the one who raised me. While my parents were on the verge of separating and had little time for me, she was the one I could rely on. She took time out of her days to make sure I was on track, taking me to school, spending her nights with me, and making sure I understood my homework. She would even wake up early every morning to make breakfast, organize my backpack, and get my uniform ready for me. My grandma always put me before herself, no matter the consequences she might have faced, and I cannot thank her enough for it. Due to the situation at home between my mother and father, I would get jealous of other student’s parents, occasionally being depressed that my own parents did not have time to spend with me. Yet every time I cried, my grandma would put down everything for me, teaching me how to stand on my own feet and showing me that I could do anything and handle everything that came my way. She never treated me with anger and raised me with patience, reminding me how much I was loved each step of the way. With her by my side, I was able to learn from my struggles and truly appreciate what I had, building on both the good and bad aspects of my life in order to make myself a better person.

The term ‘hero’ may be described as many different things according to different perspectives. They can be those who come from comic books, such as Superman, Iron Man, and Batman. To some, they can even be the villains rather than the good guys. To me, a hero is someone who is intelligent, big-hearted, capable of teaching others to be the best they can be, and able to face any difficulty. My grandma exemplifies my definition of a hero and I will always appreciate her for her hard work and giving me the bravery to become a better person.

My grandma was owed a better life than the one that was handed to her. According to my mom, she was a survivor, a fighter, and the most beautiful women. She radiated class, elegance, and poise. She made my mom feel so loved and cared for. I feel that she is becoming a very, if not the most influential person of my childhood, but of my entire life so far.

My mom and grandparents lived in a small one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with not much space to do anything really. My mom being an only child really had no choice but to be really close with her parents, especially her mom, so her only source of human interaction was going to the hotel that grandma worked whenever she had down time from school. My grandma was her best friend – they did everything together. While they didn’t always get along, she never felt safer and more loved than when she was in her presence.

When I was 13 years old, my mom finally told me about how my grandma was diagnosed with lung cancer and eventually died of it. My grandma had never smoked a day in her life. Like ever. She was the healthiest person my mother knew. My mom told me that she didn’t get to spend any time with her before she died. At the time of my grandma’s diagnosis, my mom was 21 with two babies chasing around my deadbeat father, trying to find a place of her own to stay and a job in Indiana, a state, she was not comfortable in, but she moved there so that my sister and I could have a better life. Looking back, she wishes she hadn’t taken advantage of that time.

How could this happen? My grandma was just fine when she left and she was so good to herself, and to everybody by giving everything to make everybody else comfortable, and had been sentenced to death by contracting this disease. The doctors attempted to help her but there was not much they could do and eventually she was completely attacked by this cancer. I still have to shift the blame somewhere and sometimes I blame my grandma. Why did she have to work in those asbestos filled room? Why did she work in that filthy hotel?

It’s been 18 years since my grandma has passed and I would be lying if I said that it doesn’t hurt. Every day I think about her and everything she had to experience through alone. She worked so hard cleaning hotel rooms and scrubbing toilets to give my family the life we have now. Grief comes randomly, and always linger for at least a couple of days, but she never leaves my thoughts. I wish I could have met her and experienced her beautiful, joyful presence in person and didn’t have to make up what I think she would be in my head. She encouraged me to do what I love doing, and I wouldn’t be a fraction of the person I am now if it wasn’t for her because I know my grandma is here with me, and I know she is proud and will be proud of what I’ve done and what I will do in the future, even when I’m not.

Elders are the sincerest form of wisdom. They have lived through hardships and good fortunes. They teach us to look at things in a deeper meaning rather than a superficial one. Interviewing my grandma, who is an immigrant from Vietnam, has changed my ways of how I view certain aspects of aging.

Themes that emerged while interviewing my grandma were remaining true to yourself in hard situations, be an empathic person and learn when to sacrifice.

She told me that the most important thing in life is being able to remain true to yourself and knowing when to say no. She told me that when she first arrived in Canada, she felt pressured to assimilate to Canadian customs, but she realized that she could have both by saying no and adopting what aspects of Canadian custom she wanted to. This relates back to because I am the type of person that always agrees and rarely says no even if I do not necessarily agree with it. When I get older, I do not want to be in the Erikson’s ego integrity vs. despair stage and realize that I did not live a meaningful life and do not have anything that I am proud of.

My grandma who has been married for 60 years says that being an empathic person allows you to have a successful and lasting relationship whether romantic or platonic. There has also been a study that shows there are cardiovascular benefits to living an empathic life. With the advice my grandma gave and the research I have found to back up being empathic, it has changed my views on older adults. Older adults are empathic people and that is one of their secrets to a lasting relationship.

Learning when and how to sacrifice provides benefits in the long run. My grandma says it was hard for her to leave Vietnam when she did because she felt like she was leaving everything and everyone behind to start a new life. But now she says she is glad that she did because she is living a better-quality life than she would have if she stayed in Vietnam. Because my grandma made the sacrifice, she is able to live a longer life due to the medical advances and economic developments in Canada. In turn, it has allowed myself and my relatives to live a healthy life and it has provided us with many opportunities that we would not have if we were in Vietnam.

This assignment has taught me a lot about myself and my biases I have towards older adults, and it has given me the opportunity to connect with grandma in a way that I would never have.

People can be compared to seasons, they are born, they bloom, then they ebb away. Like spring, summer, and autumn they cannot stay.

My grandmother was due to a much greater life than the one that was given to her. She was a fighter, a survivor, and the most gorgeous person I knew. She emitted poise, sophistication, and grace. I consider her not only the most influential individual in my childhood, but of my entire life so far.

My parents and I lived in Pakistan, in a small colony, with my grandparents just within walking distance. I didn’t have many friends when I was younger, I was one of the shy ones. With my mom being at the university and my dad at work all the time, my only source of human interaction was running over to grandma’s house every evening after school. Days were hot, so every day after school I would dash up the stairs to her house and she would pour me glacial cold water out of the fridge. My grandma was my everything, we did everything together. While we did argue and not get along all the time, I never felt safer and more loved then when I was in her company. When I was 2 years old, my grandma or as I called her ‘Nanny’, had a paralysis attack, the left side of her body was fully paralyzed. It took a long time but she did recover. After the attack, she wasn’t the same. Nanny’s motor skills were weak, some of her memory was gone because of all the blood clots in her brain, she didn’t remember her alphabet and couldn’t write properly, she had to learn everything again.

After a year she recovered and was given a clean bill of health. We were all jubilant, and I was so glad to have my best friend by my side once again. When I was in 2nd grade, Nanny was diagnosed with tuberculosis. It all started with chest pain and trouble breathing. I didn’t know what to do. She had to be taken to the hospital for weekly checkups, the doctors always said that she will get better eventually if she takes her medicine on time. After around 6 months, the doctors informed us of good news, or at least we thought it was. They said that Nanny’s lungs were clearing up, she will be healthy and normal once again. We were all happy, and after that check-up, mom took us to a restaurant for lunch, we even had the traditional Indian ice cream that Nanny adored. Everyone was so happy.

This was at the time when our parents had applied for immigration to Canada. It was a cold and chilly morning, we were supposed to go for our passport renewal that morning, and when we would come back in the afternoon and have lunch at Nanny’s, she was going to cook her ‘world-famous’ red lentil curry and white rice, but apparently, she had other plans. As we were all getting in the car, grandpa called and said to my mom, that “your mother doesn’t have much time left, she wants to see you and her grandsons”. My mom dropped the phone in shock, and all of us rushed up the stairs to her house and saw her there laying on the couch, we quickly got the people from downstairs to help us get her in the car quick, because the ambulance would take too much time to get here. Dad and grandpa took her to the hospital. I, mom and my little brother were waiting at our house. Mom had tears in her eyes, praying that grandma would be alright. About an hour later, Dad and grandpa were climbing up the front stairs of our porch, but there was no sign of Nanny. My mom was confused and asked dad where Nanny was, dad hugged her tightly and said, she has passed. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she fell on the floor asking dad to take back his words. She was broken, the doctors said that it had been too late, her lungs were fully expired. I will never forget that moment, Nanny, with no life in her once glistening eyes, laying on the hospital bed, cold and lifeless. I was given some time to say goodbye but it never felt long enough. That day was the last day that I saw her, and it was not in the way that I had hoped.

It has almost been 10 years since Nanny has passed, and I would be lying if I said that it’s still not hard. Every day before I go to school, I think of her and everything she went through and pray to God that she may be in a better place. A place that is free of the worldly problems and conflicts, a place free of stress and tension that she faced when she was living. She faced many problems and struggles throughout her life. The grief comes at random times and lingers for days, but she never leaves my mind. I love my grandma more than anyone that I’ve met in my entire life. I hope she’s in a better place now and that I will meet her sometime soon.

Have you ever questioned yourself about losing a loved one or even death itself? What if one day when you wake up, your loved ones are not by your side? How do you deal with that situation? Does death truly change you for the better or worse?

“You cannot stop time but death can” (Natherma Nafees). The meaning of life and time could be interpreted in one word: unpredictable. We make plans for the day and do not think twice about what could happen tomorrow. Tomorrow is not guaranteed, and everything can change in the blink of an eye or a snap of a finger. To be honest, I have never considered much about it myself until I was faced with the shock and undeniable truth of my grandma’s death. I do not believe anyone genuinely thinks about tragedy until they are confronted with the appalling news. No one is ever prepared to see a loved one pass away. It is astounding how in our society we take life for granted as if we live in a perfect world. Unfortunately, the tragedy never truly goes away. You just learn how to cope with it and keep moving on.

It was an ordinary day, August 27, 2018, during the summer break with my family of four. It was a scorching day at the beach, children running around in the moist sand. The clear blue sky is monotonous as I hear the sounds of families laughing and giggling while the sun is setting with the waves crashed along the shoreline. Never had I seen a breathtaking sight like this. Suddenly, my mom’s phone starts to vibrate and chime vigorously. Ring, ring, ring…The sounds of my mom’s phone resonated through my head. I saw my mom, tears rolled down her cheek as she dropped her phone on the clammy sand. I asked her what was wrong but she did not respond. She opened her mouth to speak but the words could not come out.

A couple of days later, on August 30, 2018, I was all dressed up in a black suit and black glasses. I was surrounded by all these people that I have never seen before. I was completely bewildered and lost about what was going on. Wherever I looked, I saw people crying, tissues drenched with tears in their grasp and people embracing each other. As I went into the room, I saw my grandma lying in the coffin with a face brimming with make-up. At that moment, I felt as though I was paralyzed and if I was being crushed by the weight of the world. My eyes started to tear up uncontrollably and my head started to ache. I felt like if I were to move, a nightmare could become a reality. All I had was this bewildered look on my face. I kept saying to myself, ‘No this is not true, it is just a nightmare. How am I supposed to live without her?’.

“Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations. The best is yet to come” (Zig Ziglar). The most challenging period in anyone’s life is when a loved one passed away, particularly their family members and friends. Grief is the typical response with regards to death, people have a mixture of emotions such as denial and guilt. A segment of you wants to or/and need to cry your heart out and the other part wants to burst in hatred and resentment.

The passing of my grandma affected my cousin the most. She was raised by our grandma as her parents had to work in another country. My grandma was there for her since she was born. Growing up my grandma fed her, bathes her, and told her bedtime stories when her parents were not there to tell them. “I shut myself off to everyone around me. I bottled everything up. it took me a few weeks to actually talk to someone and let someone in” (Jessie Wu). She felt powerless and that she couldn’t do anything about it.

As for me, I was not used to living without that particular person for quite a long time. My grandma was everything to me and my family. My grandma cared about us all and always make sure that we were happy. She inspired me to be who I am and taught me life lessons when no one was there to teach me. For example, I thought in that period of time that living without my mother would be near grief, remorse and despair are some of the central themes in ‘History Is All You Left Me’ by Adam Silvera. This poignant story is about a teenager (Griffin) who is going through the trauma of losing his best friend and his ex-boyfriend (Theo) in a drowning incident. “I’d give in to the grief but make sure I wasn’t loud enough to draw attention from those who think words will make me feel better” (Adam Silvera, ‘History Is All You Left Me’). Throughout the story, Griffin battles to open-up his emotions and regrets for leaving him (Theo) all alone. As if grieving was not hard enough, he also has OCD and severe depression. These actions are tearing him apart slowly. I can empathize and connect how Griffin is feeling about the death of his best friend and ex-boyfriend. Ever since I was a little boy, I have always been told, “Don’t have any regrets”. I truly believe it was misleading. We all make mistakes or do things in life that we regret. All of these things make up who we are, we are human, a creation bound to make mistakes. No one is perfect, we all are perfectly imperfect. However, if I were given the chance to take a different path in how I lived my life, I would want to change the amount of quality time I spend with my grandma. I hope to tell my grandma one day, “I am sorry”. “I am sorry for not keeping in touch. I am sorry for not visiting her. I am sorry for not playing mahjong with you, granny. I am sorry for not keeping my promises and all the lost time”.

From the death of my grandma, I have learned that life is not always fair. Everyone has a time in their life where they are not having a good day. Love is stronger than death even though it would not stop death from happening. No matter how hard death tries it can’t separate people from love. It can’t take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death.

In the novel, the first dilemma that black women face in growing up is racial discrimination. Margaret has been living with her grandmother in the Blacks of Staples, Arkansas since she was 3 years old. There was complete segregation, with black and white living areas sharply divided.

Like other black girls, Margaret is in a crisis of identity. On the one hand, she hates white people; on the other hand, she hopes to be a sweet little white girl, in line with every imagination of angels in the world. She had imagined that one day everyone would find out: “I was white and because a cruel fairy stepmother, who was understandably jealous of my beauty, had turned me into a too-big Negro girl, with nappy black hair, broad feet and a space between her teeth that would hold a number-two pencil.” (Angelou, 1991, p. 3) When she was young, Margaret had a strong desire to acquire the identity of the white race. Facing the harsh reality of being black, she could only rely on fantasy to comfort her heart but lost herself in the world of black and white.

Margaret could not live in her fantasy after all. The harsh reality reminded her again and again of the humiliation of being black. Her beloved grandmother always tried to prop up her dignity with optimism, strength, and piety, but this dignity was hard to maintain in the face of white people. Even the dirtiest little white thugs could do whatever they wanted in her shop, but she had to put up with it. Grandma once lent money to a white doctor, but when Margaret urgently needed medical treatment because of dental problems, the doctor not only refused to see Margaret but also humiliated her and said, ‘ My policy is I’d rather stick my hand in a dog’s mouth than in a nigger’s. ‘ (Angelou, 1991, p. 189) Margaret dreamed of her grandmother’s revenge and the punishment of white doctors to get the pleasure of revenge. After growing up, the young Margaret said, ‘ It was awful to be Negro and have no control over my life. It was brutal to be young and already trained to sit quietly and listen to charges brought against my color with no chance of defense. We should all be dead. I thought I should like to see us all dead, one on top of the other. A pyramid of flesh with the white folks on the bottom, as the broad base ‘ (Angelou, 1991, p. 181) Margaret’s self – cursing resentment against racial discrimination, but also against the trampling of black dignity of the white resentment. Because of the unfair treatment of racial discrimination, a black girl began to deeply question her ethnic identity and went on the way to lose herself.

Another hardship suffered by Margaret came from a patriarchal society. Black men did not learn to understand and respect black women because of their humiliation. Black women live at the bottom of black society, and even more sadly, sometimes they don’t even realize it. 8-year-old Margaret was raped by her mother’s boyfriend Freeman, the woman told Margaret that she is going through as much as they are now, and comfort her without fearing anything, because the worst has passed, and no one seems to be angry about it. Although Margaret defended her rights in court, Freeman was not punished and did not go to jail for one day. When Freeman was killed, Margaret felt full of sin in her body and thought that she had lost the opportunity to ascend to heaven and was abandoned by God like Satan. In this doleful patriarchal culture, the victims become guilty people, and racial discrimination reinforces that guilt.

The men in Margaret’s life brought her alienation, contempt, and hurt. These situations demonstrate the dual oppression of gender discrimination and racial discrimination endured by black women. Margaret’s sexual violence testifies to the problem of gender discrimination written in the black feminist literary tradition. Within the black race, black men gave black women everything they suffered: the racism of white society and their inherent sexism. This severely distorts the balance between black men and women, making black women the ultimate victims. Finally, Margaret’s wonderful childhood fantasy was disillusioned, and she chose to hide from the cruel reality.

Margaret walked her way to redemption in her way. At first, she was immersed in the pain of gender and race and suffered great physical and mental damage. She felt humble like dust in the air. Later, she used silence to fight the suffering of life.

The black women around Margaret – grandmother, mother, Mrs. Flowers, and Louise have a little bit of influence on Margaret, prompting Margaret to finally establish black values, and understand the self-reliance, tenacious struggle of life, and values in the black race. She was no longer the black girl she had been in the dream of ‘the little white girl turned black by her stepmother,’ and Margaret finally established her racial identity.

From the perspective of gender, gender identity is the only condition for a person to obtain social cognition of gender attribution under certain social norms. Women realize their subjectivity through the construction process of gender identity, therefore, the pursuit of gender identity has become an important part of female bildungsroman.

From the rape of Margaret to the first time she stood in front of the mirror under the guidance of her mother and faced up to her body structure and recognized her femininity after coming out of the shadow, which was the first step to constructing Margaret’s female identity.

At the end of the novel, Margaret gives birth to a baby and decides to bring him up. Margaret finally defined her female identity in her relationship with men, completing the transition from female to maternal.

Unlike other novels that describe black people, this novel does not simply describe black people as a model of sacrifice under racial oppression. Although the article describes the same confusion and struggle of Margaret as other blacks, the novel must describe her efforts to find a job to achieve her ideal. After hard work, Margaret eventually became the first black conductor on the bus in San Francisco, where racial discrimination was most serious. It broke the framework of black job selection at that time, completed the career change of black women, and established confidence for black people to get rid of their unfortunate fates. The novel meticulously describes Margaret’s changes to women, blacks, and social values. Not only writes about her growth but also her transformation in many ways, although Margaret was born black what guided her efforts and transformation was the spirit of freedom and hard work shared by all people. So the novel finally tells us that the truth goes far beyond the significance of black growth.

Reference:

Angelou, M. (1991). I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.