Descriptive Essay of a Person
Descriptive Essay of a Person
I sit at the foot of what is to become her bed and glare into her dismal eyes. She seems like such a simple soul, yet full of unused energy. As one gazes deeper, no happiness is shown. The hospital is draining her last emotions. Her world is slowly crumbling and there is nothing she can do about it.
Thelma, my grandmother, has just been admitted to the hospital for the fourth time in less than six months. Doctors do not know how to diagnose her, but they are still trying. She feels alone and scared as she enters a world known to her all too well. She will wake up in a bed that is not hers and a room soon to become home. Nobody knows how to console her or whether she even wants comforting. Every once in a while she speaks of the way things use to be. She was actively involved in her family, her home, and her future, and now those seem to be disappearing.
Thelma turned 76 this year and in the course of her years she has accomplished many things. Thelma was a farmer’s wife and a small town school teacher before deciding to retire. She attended college directly after high school and swore to do better for her family than what her mother had provided her with. She gave birth to six children, all of which grew to become successful adults with children of their own. I can recall her giving me money and commanding, “Now don’t tell anyone because they’ll get jealous and want some also.” I would never ask for the money, but it always appeared. I am sure that she did this for all of her grandchildren, but it made me feel a little more special. She was very good at making others feel as if they were worth more than they actually were.
My parents work opposite shifts at Macomb and Thelma has always helped with my sister and me. Those were the days when we had fun together. She would take me to birthday parties and many after school activities. One such party she gave me a ride to was especially memorable. Grandma was ready to back out of a friends driveway when the mailbox jumped behind her car and begged her to hit it. She answered the prayers of the mailbox and ran right over top of it, sparing nothing in her way. While my friends rushed to her side, I was too embarrassed to move. I hid behind the garage and waited for her departure. I soon regretted this incident and wished that I had an ounce of guts to see if she was okay. She would have rushed to my side, and I wish I could have...
To view the complete essay, you be registered.