My great uncle was always a happy and outgoing man, everybody loved him. One day he was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer called myelofibrosis and it was very serious and very hard on him. He battled this for about a year. One day it got so bad he went to the ICU and they had to put him on life support and in a coma. He was like this for four months and he wasn't improving in,fact he was getting worse and the doctors gave our family the choice to take him off of it or leave him on it.…
Dad story-While they were trying to stay warm with their janitor running their furnace. My dad had to save the power lines from freezing. No, one knew there was a storm that day on, November around the 15th, of 1996. He was trying to fix the power lines, rain was coming down and when it touches an object or living object it starts to freeze that object. It went on for around 6 hours or another hour.…
As I was observing the relationship between the client and his daughter, it made me recall feelings of my relationship with my father. I found myself creating biases to form connections. Through this experience, I realized that I need to learn specific language skills for counselling in Punjabi as well as learn ways of appropriately showing an understanding without the focus on self-involvement. I also found learning about PTSD in older adults and the effective interventions used, such as CBT very useful for future practices. It is important for workers to acknowledge beliefs and to be sensitive to age-specific issues (Clapp & Beck, 2012).…
Picture life's ultimate teacher. A strong and compassionate man is what I envision. To me that man is my Grandpa. He taught me how to do every day tasks. He also taught me skills that might not seem necessary but, can come in handy if needed.…
I couldn’t believe that I was stuck in boring old Pulaski, Virginia. What a perfect place to run out of gas on the annual trip from West Virginia to Florida. I had assumed that I would just lay out at the local all night pub. But as soon I entered the establishment, an old man greeted me at the door and he blocked my entrance. He said he wanted a chance to tell an outsider about the story of his great grandfather, Jack Jackson.…
I remember panic after I took the pills. I remember calling the ambulance. I remember the looks from neighbors when firetrucks and police cars arrived. I remember my dad crying when he tried to climb in the ambulance with me. I remember my mother lying to my siblings about why I was going to the hospital.…
It is 4:00 am July 3, 2009 I groan as my mother’s tender voice calls out “Teneshi yene mar (Get up my honey)” struggling I open my eyes to the sunlight tapping against my window panes. My mother calls my name once more “Mar, Mar honey” I hear a jangling as she impatiently wrestles with the door knob. At last she forces her way in, balancing a pile of folded clothes in one hand, with a look of concern clouding her face “Why aren’t you ready yet?”…
Statistics are mathematical equations. They are numbers. They mean little to me. Statistically, there is a 000000001% chance that you are the person that will read this essay. And yet, here you are.…
When I was in the sixth grade my maternal grandfather was diagnosed Multiple Myeloma. I didn’t know much about what it was but I knew it was bad. It was cancer and as I sixth grader I knew that cancer was a scary word typically used to describe some sort of disease that would later turn fatal. My grandfather wasn’t given a sentence, none of us were sat down by the doctor and told we sound be preparing our goodbyes, we were told that the cancer wouldn’t kill him and to go on living a normal life.…
When I was in 3rd grade, the only woman who had ever taken care of me passed away due to cancer. My Grandma took care of my mother and I from the time I was born and continued to care for me after my mom moved away. Our lives weren't very luxurious. She worked at Polk Community College as their lunch lady and I never had much; including my own bed. Still, I was never unhappy.…
One of my hardest moments was when my grandpa passed away. My grandpa died Feburary 4th,2006, one day before my moms birthday. I believe the funeral was on Feburary 6th 2006. The day of the funeral I honestly didn’t know what to do. For my young age I really haven’t gone to funerals that much…
Growing up, I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house. My mom was a single-parent till she married my step-dad, Mark, when I was seven. Before she met Mark, I would always be watched by my grandparents after school while she worked. With all that time I spent with my grandparents, I grew extremely close to my papa, which is what I call my grandfather. It was him who taught me how to ride a bike, play chess, dribble a basketball, throw a football, and to play soccer.…
Narrative Essay Death is an experience that nobody wants to experience, but unfortunately everyone dies. It 's a depressing time, and a time to be thankful for everything you 've ever been blessed with. For my grandfather, death was knocking at his door two years after he was diagnosed with bone cancer. He had gone through treatment, but eventually it stopped working and the only thing anyone could do was wait.…
My Granddad was never ill and seeing him become weaker was shocking. When my mum told me what happened, the flood of memories rushed through my head and…
Every Saturday, I distinctly recall the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. The radio would be playing in the background, masked by the overwhelming chatter occurring throughout the house. So many things happening in such a small space: what I remember most, is the sound of laughter, and the smiles that surrounded me. My grandpa hollering because he cannot hear the television, my mother still drowsy from the sleepless night, My grandmother singing to the radio that was barely audible over the commotion, and me, invariably sat looking at all that surrounded me, enthralled at how lucky I was to have a heart so full.…