Personal Narrative: My Grandmother's Funeral

I do not remember exactly the particular day but all I remember was that it was very humid and the sky was cloudy. It was just a few days before I joined first grade and I had just arrived home from my neighbors. I was utilizing my last few days of freedom and hence was tired and hungry. I had rushed home looking forward to my grandmother’s food and playing time. This had been my routine from kindergarten and it never bored me to say the least.
I was however shocked as our house was full of strange people dressed in white clothes and others were crying. My nanny saw me and took me in her arms and tried explaining that my beloved grandmother had passed away and the people were mourning for her. My grandmother laid on a makeshift wooden bed …show more content…
I accompanied her out of curiosity as to what had happened to her as well as out of concern mixed with fear. The room was filled with nine other people all talking animatedly about the life of my grandmother and her good selfless deeds all around the neighborhood and among relatives. Reflection of that moment reveals that people of all race and gender are brought together through death and they all talk positively about the departed soul no matter what. I have also come to understand that the talking eases the pain because even though I was sad, I still found happiness in all the talk.
Soon after it was time to take her to the burial grounds and a procession with a lot of people followed her body to where she was buried next to my grandfather. Days after the burial, I could still not bring myself to pass near the burial site; I was still overwhelmed with sorrow. All I can remember is the house being too quiet without her constant talking and laughing and I missed her cooking terribly. A lot of my memory of days and weeks after the death of my grandmother are blurred and some buried deep to reach them with reflection. All I know is that it took me a long time to get over her