Personal Narrative Essay: The Worst Day Of My Life

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Seventeen years ago this coming March marks the day that I made a promise that would follow me throughout my entire life. At five years old I was a normal happy little girl running around playing with baby dolls and dressing up. That was until March 2nd 1999. That day marks the day I learned some emotions I had never really felt in my life before. At only five years old I had been sheltered from things that could cause Confusion, Greif, and anger but nobody could shelter me from this. That is the day I lost my best friend. March 2nd 1999 is the day my grandpa lost his fight with cancer. That date marks the worst day of my life. The morning of March 2nd 1999 my mom received a phone call telling her and my dad that they believed my …show more content…
The day after he passed away I remember asking my mom when I could see my grandpa. She told me I would never be able to see him again like I used to. That is when it started to hit me, something I had never in my short five years of life ever felt. Greif, not just being sad. It was pain, and sorrow. All I could do was cry, and ask why. My grandpa was born in Kentucky and wanted to be buried in his family cemetery there so we all loaded up the cars and took off on the eight hour drive to go lay my grandpa to rest. The funeral my cousin asked me if I wanted to go see my grandpa. We went up to the coffin and they picked me up so I could see him. I talked to him and touched his face. Then I looked at my cousin and asked why he wouldn’t wake up. They told me he was never going to wake up again he was gone. I lost it. I finally understood that this was real my grandpa as everyone kept telling me was …show more content…
I did not understand why I felt the way I did. My kindergarten teacher noticed that something seemed off with me. I was not as talkative, or happy. She would catch me just playing off by myself. After a particularly bad day she pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong. I told her I missed my grandpa. She asked me where he was and I said he was gone to heaven like everyone had told me. We sat there and talked for a while longer. She asked me how all of it made me feel and I started to cry and said mad. I was mad at him for leaving me. For not being there when I went to his house to play dolls with me like he used to do. I was mad because he was not there to play silly games with anymore. I was angry that I would never be able to sneak into his bedroom and see him sleeping with Mr. Bear the snoring teddy bear I bought him when I was three. It was all of these little things that did not make any since for me to be so angry about but I was. I told her I was mad at him because he was not there for me to hug anymore. We could not sit in his big chair and watch Rugrats together anymore. The last thing I told her was that I was just mad because he left me, forever and did not say good bye. Looking back now the conversation that my grandpa and I had the night of his passing was him telling me goodbye. At five though saying I love you and making a promise was just that it was not saying good bye. After

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