My Writings
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Shannon Rogowski May 19, 2005
English 12 Personal Narrative
Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experiences of trail and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired and success achieved –Helen Keller-
In August and September 2004, my whole world was turned upside down. I was faced with one of life's many realities; the reality of losing loved ones. On August 17, 2004 my Godfather, John Rogowski passed away at the age of 42. And on September 15, 2004 my Grandmother, Dorothy Nowak passed away at the age of 79.
August 16, 2004, a day that is still so clear in my mind. It was bright, sunny warm weather and I was at work until 5. This day wasn't like the others. I wasn't waiting for 5 to come around so I could go outside and enjoy the weather. I was waiting for 5 to come around so I could visit my godfather in the hospital. He has been for the past week and a half. As my mom and I were driving down the 33 to visit my godfather, all that was on my mind was to stay strong and not to cry. I hate crying in front of family members. I feel like since I am younger I need to be stronger emotionally. Walking into hospitals has a certain smell. I smell that I assume nobody really cares for. As I was walking down the hallway, I remember breathing heavily and trying to calm my mind. As I turned to walk into my godfather's room, I thought for a minute I was looking at a stranger. For the man I had my eyes on, was not the fun loving guy who always got me to smile. He lay in the bed, speechless, for it's hard to talk with tubes down ones throat. His eyes could not focus on one object, his hands shaky and cold. He was not the man I remembered. As I reached for his hand, tears slowly fell down my face. All I could think of was that this is what alcohol can do to somebody. As the doctors entered the room, he told the family members that everything would be ok within a few weeks. I glanced back down at my godfather, knowing he was going to pass away.
August 17, 2004, a day even nicer than the one before. I was up early for tennis practice, which is about two hours. At 11 o'clock I returned home to see my mom. As I was walking up my driveway I saw my mom waiting for me. All I remember was her telling me to sit down. I knew in my head what she was going to say. She told me that my godfather has passed away. I walked away from her and went to my room. I lay on my bed and cried. I couldn't remember the last time that I cried so much. Somehow I couldn't believe that he was gone, especially at such a young age for 42. Still having so much life ahead of him. The tears for the next few days came and went, depending on were I was and if I could clear my mind.
August 19, 2004, the wake. I entered the funeral home, scared to go to the casket. But as I took a deep breath, I walked to the casket and saw my godfather laying there, no life remaining in him. He looked so peaceful and at rest. A sight that I have not seen him in for a few months. The casket was beautiful. On the inside it had the saying of “Going Home” with a bird next to it. Exactly the right saying. He was on his way to join his father in heaven. Leaving behind his mother, his amazingly caring sister, and his brother. For most of the wake, I stood near the casket, occasionally glancing at his body. Somehow I still held on to the childish fact that it was all a bad dream. Moments where I thought I was doing ok, somebody new would enter the funeral home, hug me, and tell me that they were sorry, and then the tears poured out all over again. I couldn't help but look at my godfather, knowing how he was not coming back. And just thinking in my head how he won't be there for my 18th birthday, my graduation, he wouldn't be able to tease me about my boyfriends, or most important, he wouldn't be there on my wedding day. I know I am selfish for wishing him back at times. But how could anybody not want a loved one with him or her through each new memory. Whether it is little moments or life changing event. As the wake was ending, I looked at my father, and saw tears in his eyes. For this was the first time in my 17 years of life, that I saw my father cry. I walked to the casket one last time, kissed my godfather's forehead and told him that I loved him.
August 20, 2004. The funeral. As I woke in the morning, my eyelids were swollen from crying the night before. I was walking around the house in the morning with a cold wet washcloth on my eyes to attempt to decrease the swelling. Since make-up was useless for the day, I figured I could at least make my eyes back down to normal size. As we left the house that morning a piece of me did not want to leave, for I knew this day was not going to be easy. When we arrived at the funeral home to say our last goodbyes, life seemed all too surreal at the time. That once again it was all a bad dream. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare that was my reality. Walking past the casket for the very last time was a sight that will never leave my mind. It was the last time that I knew I would see my godfather's face. I walked out of the funeral home, sat in my father's van and looked as they carried the casket into the hearse. The mass was sad, but hardly any tears were shed, for some reason I believed that I was out of tears and my eyes could no longer cry. It was a long ride to the cemetery. The cemetery that he is buried at is out in Lancaster. Once at the cemetery, we had another prayer and thoughts in the chapel. At the chapel all I could do was look at the casket knowing that my godfather is in there and I will never have the chance to see him again. Thoughts began flowing through my mind. What if I would have spent more time with him? What if I would have talked to him about his drinking problem? What if he sought out help a little sooner? Somehow I was wishing for him back now more than ever. The time has come where it was time to take the casket to his burial sight. As they walked the casket to the platform and laid it upon there I knew the hardest part has come. I stood there with my brother on one side and my father on the other. Mother sat in the van; she didn't want to see the casket at the grave sight. Watching as my father, touched the casket, and said, “Take care bubba.” And seeing the tears down my fathers face made my heart feel even heavier. I rested my hand upon the casket, saying, “Good-bye and I love you.” I walked away from the casket but still looking back at the casket, not being able to turn away from it. My brother put his arm around me and told me it would be ok. But I knew that my life was forever changed.
After that week, my whole life was changed. Family and friends seemed more important, and taking time out of my day to see them didn't seem like any trouble at all. The end of August had its ups and downs. Some days were better than others. Personally I began to have mood swings. Not knowing how to deal with all the new mixed emotions. My attitude would be good some days but awfully mean the next. I just didn't know what to think or feel anymore. I felt like God wanted to test me. And I didn't need to be tested only a few weeks before my senior year.
I entered my senior year thinking I would be doing well in school and that I would try hard. But soon those thoughts faded. I couldn't' help but not get my feeling straight, I felt like I shouldn't get close to people because ultimately all it does is bring pain. The added stress of college did not help my attitude either. I felt lost in the world, like a tiny person who didn't matter. I didn't know what would make me happy anymore. It seemed like nothing could bring me happiness anymore. I began to shut myself down. Not knowing who I am. For the most part, I could just put on an act around my family and friends, thinking I was happy. Hiding my emotions. Not letting them see how I was feeling. I figured everybody had his or her own problems, how I felt didn't matter at all. I felt as though I lost myself.
September 15, 2004. My world wasn't just turned upside down now, but it was completely torn apart. I woke up many times in the early morning as the phone was ringing on and off. I knew the phone calls were from the hospital because my grandmother has been in there for a few weeks now. As I finally got out of my bed at 6, my mom was asleep on the couch. I got ready for school like every other day and went on my way. But in the back of my mind, I knew bad news was coming sooner or later. It was a weird feeling that consumed my body. As I was in Mr. Fish's math class, an office aid came to the door, saying that my mom was in the office. As I walked out of the room, a few tears fell from my eyes. I knew the news was not good. As I turned the corner and saw my mom in the lobby, I knew my grandmother would be passing away today. My mother could not stop the tears from her eyes. And there we stood, standing in the lobby, hugging and crying. I left school that day to visit my grandmother in the hospital. She was on life support, something she always said she didn't want to be on. The whole family gathered in the hospital to say their good-byes. We knew that today she would be leaving us from this world. As we sat in the waiting room, I didn't know what to think. The thoughts that were in my head were all so familiar; it was less than a month ago that I was in the same hospital, saying good-bye to my godfather. How could I be losing my grandmother now?
Memories flowed through my mind. My grandmother was an amazing woman, somebody who taught me more than she knew. I loved the talks her and I would have and how she always believed in me. But grandma always knew the right things to say to try to get me upset and joke around with me. Grandma always got a kick out of that. I couldn't believe that she was leaving me. She was leaving me to soon. I could only think how every other time she was in a hospital; she was always able to make it out.
The doctor came into the waiting room, telling the family that if we wanted to see her we could now. For it was only a little while till they would be “pulling the plug.” As I walked into the room where she lay I could hear her fighting for air. I hated that sound., it tore my heart into pieces. It sounded like she was in pain. As I took my grandma's hand, I told her I was sorry that I couldn't visit her sooner and I wished I could have talked with her and joked with her one last time. I know I will always be wishing for that one last time.
September 17, 2004. One month ago my godfather died. But here I am standing in front of my grandmother's casket. My grandmother looked more beautiful than anyone could ever imagined. She wore a lovely light pink dress and make-up was perfect. She really would have loved it. There were so many people in and out of the wake that evening. For the first half of the wake, I stood mostly by the casket, thinking and looking at pictures. But as thoughts filled my head and it hurt to cry, I knew it was time for me to walk away. I sat towards the back just crying and thinking, wishing and wondering. Life just seemed to be testing me more than ever. As I watched people that were at the wake, my eyes focused on my brother. He was the closest grandchild to my grandmother. He was always there to help her and never hesitated to do anything for her. They had a bond that showed through anything. I wished at that time that I could help my brother, but I knew there was nothing to say. I walked up to him and hugged him. I knew that's all I could do. Towards the closing of the wake I walked up to my grandmothers casket looking at her. Knowing I needed to say good-bye but I didn't want to. I felt her hand and said good-bye. And tears poured from my eyes. That night we went to my aunt's house to sit and talk about my grandmother and recapture memories. As the adults were talking I lie on the couch and fell asleep until it was time to leave. Hearing memories seemed to make everything even harder.
September 18, 2004. The Funeral. As I was getting ready for the funeral that morning tears would fall from my eyes sporadically. I would look around my room at pictures of my grandmother and godfather and everything just seemed so surreal. I couldn't grasp the concept that two people who were very influential in my life were now gone. I started to think ahead to the holidays and how everything would be so different. And how a piece of my heart had seemed to disappear. We arrived at the funeral home to say the last good-byes. The grandson's were pulled aside and instructed what to do as Paul barriers. My grandmother always wanted her grandsons to carry her casket. As I walked up to my grandmother's casket I didn't want to leave. I looked at her wishing she would just wake up. Somehow I didn't feel like it was time for her to go. I kissed my grandmother's forehead and said my good-byes than walked away. Was I walked to the van tears poured down my face and as I watched the casket being carried into the hearse more and more tears poured out. At the funeral mass I read my poem that I wrote to my grandmother. I was not reading the poem to the family during the mass, but I was talking to my grandma, and asking her the thoughts I wondered. As I read my poem, I did not cry once and my voice never cracked. As I walked away from the podium I knew my grandmother gave me the strength I needed to read it. The funeral was then lead to the burial sight. But first we all gathered in the chapel for our last prayers. During this part, each close family member was to put a rose on her casket, stating off a quality that my grandmother had. Even though only 21 roses were laid down, we all knew she was more amazing than we could have ever thought. We knew that the next part was going to be hard. It was time to take the casket to her burial sight. I could never imagine what was going through the grandsons' heads as the carried their grandmother to her grave. Here is were the casket was laid upon the platform, for only in a few minutes she would be put at internal rest. We kissed the casket, hugged and cried and then said our good-byes.
Having two close family member pass away within a month of each other is extremely hard on anybody. At the age of 17, I was never really exposed to death before. The only funeral I attended before that was when my godfather's father passed away. I was very close to my grandmother and godfather. And having both of them pass away so quickly tore me apart inside. I felt like I wasn't strong enough. I constantly thought about how cold it must be underground. Awful mind eating thoughts would come to my mind on snowy and rainy days. I wished their bodies were not laying underground, freezing.
I always thought of myself as a decently strong person, but somehow I lost that feeling. With losing the two loved ones, I felt like I was no longer the person I once was. To me everything was different. I would be happy go-lucky one day and extremely moody the next. I felt like I no longer could even control my emotions. When family members would ask what was wrong I would say school and when friends asked what was wrong I would say family. But truth be told, it was because I was still trying to deal with the deaths. I felt like I couldn't talk to anybody about it. I was lost in this world. Everybody heard about the deaths when they first occurred so I figured that they did not want to hear about it anymore. I thought they heard enough and didn't care anymore. As I would keep all my thoughts and emotions bottled up, everything seemed to be getting worse and it came to the point where I didn't know what was wrong anymore. I felt like I should have been over it.
The holidays were very emotional on me. Christmas Eve didn't feel the same because I no longer needed to travel from my grandparent's house to my godfathers. I didn't have him to visit anymore. I didn't have to watch the 24 hours straight of A Christmas Story, I didn't have him. Christmas Day felt like a void. The worst of it all was my grandmother bought my cousin and I Christmas gifts months back. So when all the presents were passed out and I received one from my grandmother, I felt as though I shouldn't open it. I felt that if I didn't open it I could still hold on to her even more. My mom for Christmas gave her sisters all lockets with my grandmother's picture in them. A few tears were shed as they were opened. On Christmas I snuck up to my grandmother's room and laid on her bed. I laid there and cried. I wished she would have been there.
It has been over nine months since my godfather passed away. My emotions have been better and I have a few people that I now feel like I can always talk to. But there are still the days where one minute I will be fine and then I'll start thinking and the next minute I'm crying. But I know I have somebody who cares about me and is there to wipe away my tears.
Dealing with the two deaths so close together has built my character and increased my understanding of life its self. I feel as tough God has helped me understand that I can deal with almost anything he throws at me and I can work my way to over come obstacles. My character I believe is stronger. I realized that life is short so I need to make it the best I can. I have learned that some things shouldn't be taken to seriously while others need special attention. Life is full of ups and downs, hopes and dreams, births and deaths Each person learns from any experience that they are part of. Experience is the key to finding one's own happiness.
In the recent months I believed I have become happier. I am spending more time with my family and working on trying to maintain a better relationship between my mother and father. Relationships help people understand and deal with life's tough realities. I now understand what it feels like to lose loved ones and I know that death happens and nobody can stop it.
I am still working towards coming to peace with all the emotions. And when I feel like I need somebody to talk to. It is never a far drive to either cemetery to talk to my grandmother or godfather. They are my angels by my side. They are watching over me.
English 12 Personal Narrative
Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experiences of trail and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired and success achieved –Helen Keller-
In August and September 2004, my whole world was turned upside down. I was faced with one of life's many realities; the reality of losing loved ones. On August 17, 2004 my Godfather, John Rogowski passed away at the age of 42. And on September 15, 2004 my Grandmother, Dorothy Nowak passed away at the age of 79.
August 16, 2004, a day that is still so clear in my mind. It was bright, sunny warm weather and I was at work until 5. This day wasn't like the others. I wasn't waiting for 5 to come around so I could go outside and enjoy the weather. I was waiting for 5 to come around so I could visit my godfather in the hospital. He has been for the past week and a half. As my mom and I were driving down the 33 to visit my godfather, all that was on my mind was to stay strong and not to cry. I hate crying in front of family members. I feel like since I am younger I need to be stronger emotionally. Walking into hospitals has a certain smell. I smell that I assume nobody really cares for. As I was walking down the hallway, I remember breathing heavily and trying to calm my mind. As I turned to walk into my godfather's room, I thought for a minute I was looking at a stranger. For the man I had my eyes on, was not the fun loving guy who always got me to smile. He lay in the bed, speechless, for it's hard to talk with tubes down ones throat. His eyes could not focus on one object, his hands shaky and cold. He was not the man I remembered. As I reached for his hand, tears slowly fell down my face. All I could think of was that this is what alcohol can do to somebody. As the doctors entered the room, he told the family members that everything would be ok within a few weeks. I glanced back down at my godfather, knowing he was going to pass away.
August 17, 2004, a day even nicer than the one before. I was up early for tennis practice, which is about two hours. At 11 o'clock I returned home to see my mom. As I was walking up my driveway I saw my mom waiting for me. All I remember was her telling me to sit down. I knew in my head what she was going to say. She told me that my godfather has passed away. I walked away from her and went to my room. I lay on my bed and cried. I couldn't remember the last time that I cried so much. Somehow I couldn't believe that he was gone, especially at such a young age for 42. Still having so much life ahead of him. The tears for the next few days came and went, depending on were I was and if I could clear my mind.
August 19, 2004, the wake. I entered the funeral home, scared to go to the casket. But as I took a deep breath, I walked to the casket and saw my godfather laying there, no life remaining in him. He looked so peaceful and at rest. A sight that I have not seen him in for a few months. The casket was beautiful. On the inside it had the saying of “Going Home” with a bird next to it. Exactly the right saying. He was on his way to join his father in heaven. Leaving behind his mother, his amazingly caring sister, and his brother. For most of the wake, I stood near the casket, occasionally glancing at his body. Somehow I still held on to the childish fact that it was all a bad dream. Moments where I thought I was doing ok, somebody new would enter the funeral home, hug me, and tell me that they were sorry, and then the tears poured out all over again. I couldn't help but look at my godfather, knowing how he was not coming back. And just thinking in my head how he won't be there for my 18th birthday, my graduation, he wouldn't be able to tease me about my boyfriends, or most important, he wouldn't be there on my wedding day. I know I am selfish for wishing him back at times. But how could anybody not want a loved one with him or her through each new memory. Whether it is little moments or life changing event. As the wake was ending, I looked at my father, and saw tears in his eyes. For this was the first time in my 17 years of life, that I saw my father cry. I walked to the casket one last time, kissed my godfather's forehead and told him that I loved him.
August 20, 2004. The funeral. As I woke in the morning, my eyelids were swollen from crying the night before. I was walking around the house in the morning with a cold wet washcloth on my eyes to attempt to decrease the swelling. Since make-up was useless for the day, I figured I could at least make my eyes back down to normal size. As we left the house that morning a piece of me did not want to leave, for I knew this day was not going to be easy. When we arrived at the funeral home to say our last goodbyes, life seemed all too surreal at the time. That once again it was all a bad dream. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare that was my reality. Walking past the casket for the very last time was a sight that will never leave my mind. It was the last time that I knew I would see my godfather's face. I walked out of the funeral home, sat in my father's van and looked as they carried the casket into the hearse. The mass was sad, but hardly any tears were shed, for some reason I believed that I was out of tears and my eyes could no longer cry. It was a long ride to the cemetery. The cemetery that he is buried at is out in Lancaster. Once at the cemetery, we had another prayer and thoughts in the chapel. At the chapel all I could do was look at the casket knowing that my godfather is in there and I will never have the chance to see him again. Thoughts began flowing through my mind. What if I would have spent more time with him? What if I would have talked to him about his drinking problem? What if he sought out help a little sooner? Somehow I was wishing for him back now more than ever. The time has come where it was time to take the casket to his burial sight. As they walked the casket to the platform and laid it upon there I knew the hardest part has come. I stood there with my brother on one side and my father on the other. Mother sat in the van; she didn't want to see the casket at the grave sight. Watching as my father, touched the casket, and said, “Take care bubba.” And seeing the tears down my fathers face made my heart feel even heavier. I rested my hand upon the casket, saying, “Good-bye and I love you.” I walked away from the casket but still looking back at the casket, not being able to turn away from it. My brother put his arm around me and told me it would be ok. But I knew that my life was forever changed.
After that week, my whole life was changed. Family and friends seemed more important, and taking time out of my day to see them didn't seem like any trouble at all. The end of August had its ups and downs. Some days were better than others. Personally I began to have mood swings. Not knowing how to deal with all the new mixed emotions. My attitude would be good some days but awfully mean the next. I just didn't know what to think or feel anymore. I felt like God wanted to test me. And I didn't need to be tested only a few weeks before my senior year.
I entered my senior year thinking I would be doing well in school and that I would try hard. But soon those thoughts faded. I couldn't' help but not get my feeling straight, I felt like I shouldn't get close to people because ultimately all it does is bring pain. The added stress of college did not help my attitude either. I felt lost in the world, like a tiny person who didn't matter. I didn't know what would make me happy anymore. It seemed like nothing could bring me happiness anymore. I began to shut myself down. Not knowing who I am. For the most part, I could just put on an act around my family and friends, thinking I was happy. Hiding my emotions. Not letting them see how I was feeling. I figured everybody had his or her own problems, how I felt didn't matter at all. I felt as though I lost myself.
September 15, 2004. My world wasn't just turned upside down now, but it was completely torn apart. I woke up many times in the early morning as the phone was ringing on and off. I knew the phone calls were from the hospital because my grandmother has been in there for a few weeks now. As I finally got out of my bed at 6, my mom was asleep on the couch. I got ready for school like every other day and went on my way. But in the back of my mind, I knew bad news was coming sooner or later. It was a weird feeling that consumed my body. As I was in Mr. Fish's math class, an office aid came to the door, saying that my mom was in the office. As I walked out of the room, a few tears fell from my eyes. I knew the news was not good. As I turned the corner and saw my mom in the lobby, I knew my grandmother would be passing away today. My mother could not stop the tears from her eyes. And there we stood, standing in the lobby, hugging and crying. I left school that day to visit my grandmother in the hospital. She was on life support, something she always said she didn't want to be on. The whole family gathered in the hospital to say their good-byes. We knew that today she would be leaving us from this world. As we sat in the waiting room, I didn't know what to think. The thoughts that were in my head were all so familiar; it was less than a month ago that I was in the same hospital, saying good-bye to my godfather. How could I be losing my grandmother now?
Memories flowed through my mind. My grandmother was an amazing woman, somebody who taught me more than she knew. I loved the talks her and I would have and how she always believed in me. But grandma always knew the right things to say to try to get me upset and joke around with me. Grandma always got a kick out of that. I couldn't believe that she was leaving me. She was leaving me to soon. I could only think how every other time she was in a hospital; she was always able to make it out.
The doctor came into the waiting room, telling the family that if we wanted to see her we could now. For it was only a little while till they would be “pulling the plug.” As I walked into the room where she lay I could hear her fighting for air. I hated that sound., it tore my heart into pieces. It sounded like she was in pain. As I took my grandma's hand, I told her I was sorry that I couldn't visit her sooner and I wished I could have talked with her and joked with her one last time. I know I will always be wishing for that one last time.
September 17, 2004. One month ago my godfather died. But here I am standing in front of my grandmother's casket. My grandmother looked more beautiful than anyone could ever imagined. She wore a lovely light pink dress and make-up was perfect. She really would have loved it. There were so many people in and out of the wake that evening. For the first half of the wake, I stood mostly by the casket, thinking and looking at pictures. But as thoughts filled my head and it hurt to cry, I knew it was time for me to walk away. I sat towards the back just crying and thinking, wishing and wondering. Life just seemed to be testing me more than ever. As I watched people that were at the wake, my eyes focused on my brother. He was the closest grandchild to my grandmother. He was always there to help her and never hesitated to do anything for her. They had a bond that showed through anything. I wished at that time that I could help my brother, but I knew there was nothing to say. I walked up to him and hugged him. I knew that's all I could do. Towards the closing of the wake I walked up to my grandmothers casket looking at her. Knowing I needed to say good-bye but I didn't want to. I felt her hand and said good-bye. And tears poured from my eyes. That night we went to my aunt's house to sit and talk about my grandmother and recapture memories. As the adults were talking I lie on the couch and fell asleep until it was time to leave. Hearing memories seemed to make everything even harder.
September 18, 2004. The Funeral. As I was getting ready for the funeral that morning tears would fall from my eyes sporadically. I would look around my room at pictures of my grandmother and godfather and everything just seemed so surreal. I couldn't grasp the concept that two people who were very influential in my life were now gone. I started to think ahead to the holidays and how everything would be so different. And how a piece of my heart had seemed to disappear. We arrived at the funeral home to say the last good-byes. The grandson's were pulled aside and instructed what to do as Paul barriers. My grandmother always wanted her grandsons to carry her casket. As I walked up to my grandmother's casket I didn't want to leave. I looked at her wishing she would just wake up. Somehow I didn't feel like it was time for her to go. I kissed my grandmother's forehead and said my good-byes than walked away. Was I walked to the van tears poured down my face and as I watched the casket being carried into the hearse more and more tears poured out. At the funeral mass I read my poem that I wrote to my grandmother. I was not reading the poem to the family during the mass, but I was talking to my grandma, and asking her the thoughts I wondered. As I read my poem, I did not cry once and my voice never cracked. As I walked away from the podium I knew my grandmother gave me the strength I needed to read it. The funeral was then lead to the burial sight. But first we all gathered in the chapel for our last prayers. During this part, each close family member was to put a rose on her casket, stating off a quality that my grandmother had. Even though only 21 roses were laid down, we all knew she was more amazing than we could have ever thought. We knew that the next part was going to be hard. It was time to take the casket to her burial sight. I could never imagine what was going through the grandsons' heads as the carried their grandmother to her grave. Here is were the casket was laid upon the platform, for only in a few minutes she would be put at internal rest. We kissed the casket, hugged and cried and then said our good-byes.
Having two close family member pass away within a month of each other is extremely hard on anybody. At the age of 17, I was never really exposed to death before. The only funeral I attended before that was when my godfather's father passed away. I was very close to my grandmother and godfather. And having both of them pass away so quickly tore me apart inside. I felt like I wasn't strong enough. I constantly thought about how cold it must be underground. Awful mind eating thoughts would come to my mind on snowy and rainy days. I wished their bodies were not laying underground, freezing.
I always thought of myself as a decently strong person, but somehow I lost that feeling. With losing the two loved ones, I felt like I was no longer the person I once was. To me everything was different. I would be happy go-lucky one day and extremely moody the next. I felt like I no longer could even control my emotions. When family members would ask what was wrong I would say school and when friends asked what was wrong I would say family. But truth be told, it was because I was still trying to deal with the deaths. I felt like I couldn't talk to anybody about it. I was lost in this world. Everybody heard about the deaths when they first occurred so I figured that they did not want to hear about it anymore. I thought they heard enough and didn't care anymore. As I would keep all my thoughts and emotions bottled up, everything seemed to be getting worse and it came to the point where I didn't know what was wrong anymore. I felt like I should have been over it.
The holidays were very emotional on me. Christmas Eve didn't feel the same because I no longer needed to travel from my grandparent's house to my godfathers. I didn't have him to visit anymore. I didn't have to watch the 24 hours straight of A Christmas Story, I didn't have him. Christmas Day felt like a void. The worst of it all was my grandmother bought my cousin and I Christmas gifts months back. So when all the presents were passed out and I received one from my grandmother, I felt as though I shouldn't open it. I felt that if I didn't open it I could still hold on to her even more. My mom for Christmas gave her sisters all lockets with my grandmother's picture in them. A few tears were shed as they were opened. On Christmas I snuck up to my grandmother's room and laid on her bed. I laid there and cried. I wished she would have been there.
It has been over nine months since my godfather passed away. My emotions have been better and I have a few people that I now feel like I can always talk to. But there are still the days where one minute I will be fine and then I'll start thinking and the next minute I'm crying. But I know I have somebody who cares about me and is there to wipe away my tears.
Dealing with the two deaths so close together has built my character and increased my understanding of life its self. I feel as tough God has helped me understand that I can deal with almost anything he throws at me and I can work my way to over come obstacles. My character I believe is stronger. I realized that life is short so I need to make it the best I can. I have learned that some things shouldn't be taken to seriously while others need special attention. Life is full of ups and downs, hopes and dreams, births and deaths Each person learns from any experience that they are part of. Experience is the key to finding one's own happiness.
In the recent months I believed I have become happier. I am spending more time with my family and working on trying to maintain a better relationship between my mother and father. Relationships help people understand and deal with life's tough realities. I now understand what it feels like to lose loved ones and I know that death happens and nobody can stop it.
I am still working towards coming to peace with all the emotions. And when I feel like I need somebody to talk to. It is never a far drive to either cemetery to talk to my grandmother or godfather. They are my angels by my side. They are watching over me.
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