My Grandmother: A Personal Narrative Of My Life

1298 Words 5 Pages
Last summer while I was back home, my cousin, Ryma, got married. We had a lot of fun in her wedding party, and we took many nice photos either whit her, the bride, or with all my relatives. I was looking at these photos when I noticed a detail. It was obvious that one of those faces didn’t disappear from any of the pictures. Is it just a coincidence or the message sent through those photos was a proof of what I was thinking about? My grandmother was so excited during that ceremony, which lead me to ask myself the reason of her different reaction toward me and my sisters. Even though we refused to admit the bitter reality, my grandmother unfairness had been always obvious. When I was a child, I couldn’t give an explanation for …show more content…
During this period, he worked hard to assure them a happy life .In the begging, he built a very big house; then, he did his best and opened a business which he passed down to his mother many years ago. He dedicated his being to his mother by scarifying many years of his the end when he decided to get married, she didn’t feel like he has done everything because as she was thinking, getting married will systematically lead to having children who will replace her own. Anyway, he got married and had the first baby, my older sister. Then, another one came in. after a year, his brother got married, too which made it fun because my sister had someone to pay with. As the time went on, many of my siblings and cousins were born which made the family bigger and bigger. My mother told me every single detail about those nights when I couldn’t sleep due to my pain. In addition to being weak, I wasn’t greedy, either. Because my mother had to work all day long for the family benefits, she couldn’t take care of me or any of my grandmother was watching us, children, while the adults had to work. Even though the situation can seem ordinal, the reality was that my cousins were taken care of while I and my sisters were left …show more content…
She is my grandmother, and I really respect her because she gave birth to my dad, the nicest father who would sacrifice everything for his family. In contrast, she has been talking to me like she was planning something. She always acted sweet, nice, and caring woman in public whereas when we are home by ourselves, she had that mischievous smile. She first started by spreading lies that she would sell the house to the spouse; then, by using extra time, she tried to give the granddaughter the right of choosing whether she wanted the house or not. Finally, she stole the house that my parent worked hard was convenience to because as a result of everything she did, we had to expect worse than just taking the house. Bothe of my parents were sad when they knew that the triumph of their life was gone forever. We became once again isolated despite everything we did for her and her family, this family that one was our family but it really wasn’t because unlike the 40 past years during my father was a young, smart, brave, and dynamic man, today he may be lost the house; however, he never lost the dignity and all the good life given to his mother and siblings. We are proud of him, as he is of himself. A year later, we build a bigger house, but in a different place where we will stay away from her and her nasty

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