Personal Narrative: A Day At A Funeral

A few weeks later we drove to the cemetery to visit your wife. The narrow road to her grave was blocked by people and cars for a funeral. There was one particular car that was blocking the whole road. The car was running with people in it and the driver was talking to a man standing next to the car. The man was crying. He was hurting just like you and me. I looked out the window with a tilted head as the corner of my lips drooped. I was thinking about her funeral. I told you to just back up and take a different path because there were so many different ways to get to her grave. You didn’t listen though. You honked your horn and told them to move out of our way. When my sister and I both yelled “why would you do that?” I added “they were at a funeral!” You screamed “I’m mourning! I’m the hurt one!” And then you slammed your palms into the steering wheel silencing the car.
A week later, you took me driving before my driving test. We drove to the parking lot where my test was at. I used to practice with your wife. But since she was gone, you took me instead. I …show more content…
It wasn’t the same because she wasn’t there to celebrate with us but it was still a happy event. Usually I would have a birthday party or dinner but I told you I didn’t care to have one. We had an intimate dinner instead with just you, Sabrina, my grandma, my best friend, and me. After dessert, everyone gave me a birthday present. After opening everyone else’s my sister asked you “where’s your present? What did you get Samantha?” You replied “I didn’t get her anything. I’m paying for dinner.” The table became silent as my sister glared at you. I didn’t care about the present but not even a card? You used to write us cards for everything. I didn’t say anything to you because I thought that it would be a onetime thing. I thought that it was just because it was the first event to take place since she died. But then my sister’s birthday came up that next