my final submission.

here is what  i want to do for my final submission. this is a personal naritive that i want to make into a memoir.

For most kids my age there fondest memory comes of their first time to Cedar Point, Disney World, a cruise, their first crush, or even their first kiss but for me it is much more serious. A week that is filled with joy, and fun, and celebration is now shadowed by the most terrifying time in my life. I have only told my closest friend my whole story; I had her in tears as these flash backs kept rolling into my mind. However the strongest of them all are the two that I will never forget and here is how they go:

It was the first Saturday in July of 2007, it was said to be the luckiest day at 07/07/07 however for me that was the second worst of day my life. I was in a fierce softball tournament in Carlton. My third game had just finished, and that was when reality had really hit me. My mom got a call from my dad and he said that my grandmother, who had been battling Characinoid Cancer, had taken the turn for the worst. He said that I need to come as soon as I could. When my mom told me what was going on I became a fountain with tears poring from my eyes. You see my grandmother and I were really close. We butted heads a couple of times, but we always saw the light at the end of the tunnel. She was always at my sporting events cheering me on. She was and still is my driving force. If I knew that she was coming, I would try that much harder to show her how much I had improved.

As I’m leaving the park I could only imagine how bad she was, she had sounded good on the phone the night before.  She was actually sounding better than she had in a while. Her voice was as energetic as the Sunday morning when she had picked me up from church. The pride and joy of my grandma was her faith in god. I swear she knew the bible better than anyone. She followed the messages and tried so hard to teach them to all four of her grandchildren.

Just as we pulled up to her house, I saw my aunts’ cars in the drive way, and I could only think that this was it, she’s going to die today. However I didn’t let my thoughts get to me until I got into her room, and saw how she was feeling. At this point, she was talking, but she couldn’t eat anything; she couldn’t get out of bed. Words can’t even describe how horrible it was to look at her. It was as if she had been on a constant death march with Elie Wiesel. Although it wouldn’t take much to make her look so un-nurtured because she was only about five foot two and only weighed 120 at the most. 

As I walk to her I start to say, “Hi its Kennedy,” but that’s when she murmured in her shocked and surprised voice, “Oh Kennedy! What are you doing here? Don’t you have a softball tournament?” the only thing that I could tell her was that I had already got done. I knew that it would have killed her in side to know that I had left to come to see her.  

Her voice was so worried and shocked, that for the first time I was speechless. I just stood there in amazement. Than she started talking to me, the sounds coming from her lips were that of church mice. So inched closer to her, she asked me how I did that day in the tournament. I could only say “okay” later she started to moan and finally fell fast a sleep.

I sat there counting the seconds between her breaths. Each one seemed like a school year had passed, but than she would gasp and all was good for the moment.

Once I was positive that she was asleep, I was the church mouse running out of the room. I joined my family in the living room. They were all talking and eating, having a good time while        trying to be quiet. They didn’t speak much of my grandma but of what they have been doing in their lives like a family reunion.

A few hours had passed; my aunt said that my grandma needed to take another round of medication. I went in the room with her and that’s when my world stopped. As my aunt applied the medication to my grandma’s lower gums, she mumbled something. My aunt and I couldn’t make out what she had said, we asked her to repeat it. It took every ounce of her strength to say “no more meds.” These words are engraved, locked away in storage and are to be remembered for eternity in the back of my mind. When I think of my grandma I think of those three short little words.

After hearing “no more meds” I thought that nothing could get worse but yet my anger, internal emotions, memory, and my will endured the worst.

The very next day somehow my grandma got the strength to get out of bed and reach the bathroom. She managed to turn on the sink and get back to her bed. She left the water from the faucet flow like Niagara Falls.

As my Aunt Julie was telling us this entire story my grandma started to vomit well more like dry heaving. This was very strange because the cancer was suffocating her and she hadn’t eaten in about a day. She would hack and hack, trying to vomit like there was something wedged just inside her throat. Almost like she could feel herself getting sick but nothing was in her body to come up.

These events were extremely out of the ordinary to what the doctors had told our family. The unexpected left me with the most unremarkable image I thought that I would never get to see. They were as dark as a mahogany stained table, as large as Jupiter and its rings; they looked like The Ball dropping on New Year’s Eve in Time Square. The last glimmer of life in her eyes was looking straight at me like a deer caught in the headlights.

That was the last time anyone saw those beautiful eyes alive. That was the last day anyone saw my grandma alive. It was incredibly hard at the time to grasp the concept that she was gone. At the time I was only 12 years old and the image, the words, the emptiness in my hart has never left me.

this is intitlede lucky number 7. what area do you think i need to focus on the most?