Memories Of My Grandmother

I called my grandparents Mamaw and Pappaw. Mamaw beared a stroke and developed Alzheimer’s disease; and Pappaw fostered Dementia. The abundance of my family assisted with the care of them until Pappaw became ill one day and we had to be carried to the hospital. We found out his heart was malfunctioning, and he was nearing death. He was brought home to be with Mamaw in his final moments. He passed away May 31, 2014. My life was forever

I enjoyed reading your interview with your Grandmother, she sounds so much like my Grandmother. How she grew up also sounds a lot like how I grew up, just different times. We didn’t have a lot of money but we were happy. My Mother worked her whole life and still works today, she had lots of trouble raising four children until she met my Dad who adopted us. I remember we were getting canned food delivered to our trailer at one point before she met my Dad. It all changed when my Dad found my Mom and married her and took on all four of us. For some reason, I couldn’t help but to remember making mud pies and building forts in our yard. That was one thing we did have was a huge back yard with a fence, so we would pretend the yard was our ocean full of sharks. We would climb around the fence and if we fell, we got eaten by the sharks. For some reason this interview made me think of those great memories.

So i spent the night at my grandma and grandpas and in the morning we all woke up in the morning we all got in the van and all the kids including me took nap in back and when we got there we had to put camper up and take boat to ramp to get it to the campsite

For as long as I can remember, my grandmother, Krystyna Biliunas, has been one of the most influential people in my life. She may live in Cleveland, but all of her visits to Iowa are precious to our family, and we wish that she could come to stay with us all of the time. Growing up in Poland and a Siberian labor camp during World War II has given us the strong and faithful grandma, or babcia in Polish, that we know and love today. I can’t imagine a life that isn’t filled with some of the all of the happy memories that we’ve shared together.

Ever since I was small I had been close to my Grandma. Although she lived far away in

I lived with my grandmother for the first half of my life. She practically raised me. Everyone in our village would talk about how much she spoiled me. She would go out of her way to get what I needed. One day I was playing with my friends, there was food in the house but I just wanted to eat snacks. I complained and whined about it until I got what I wanted she made my uncle go all the way into the city to buy me some snacks even though I could’ve just eaten what was in the house. She was a part of me. We had so much in common. My mom wasn't unable to raise me because she was living in America.

A Grandmother Remembers 1. What type of text is it? - It is an eyewitness account. It was told by a woman who experienced being one of the first immi-grants in New Zealand. 2.

Many of us take people in our lives for granted and don’t realize how important

The familiar smell of soft cookies and homemade cooking are common thoughts when people think about their grandma's house. Great feasts and family gatherings play a part in everyone's grandmother's home. But when I really think about my grandma's house only one word comes to my mind: fun.

I was born in the United Stated so by default I never met any of my grandparents. My parents and I are immigrants from Somalia, and my maternal Grandmother resided in Kismayo, the port city of south Somalia. My Grandmother and I share a special connection, we share the same name, we are Sammi. My Mother says I have her eyes and hair, my mother told me she had the most vibrant brown eyes as a young woman, and when she grew in age, her eyes turn light blue with a dark blue ring around her iris. We only had one picture of her until my Mother went back and visited in 2007 and then we had so many. My Grandmother was 92 when she died, she had my Mother, the oldest of her four children late in life.

When I was little, I used to be attached to my grandparents. My grandparents used to live next to my family in Puerto Rico. When I was a little girl, my sister and I we loved to spend the whole day with my grandparents at their house. The reasons we loved to spend the rest of the day in my grandparents’ house was their food and the coffee. My grandmother used to make good food, and every time I ate I would lick my fingers. Another reason that I love my grandparents were the way they taught us how to be good kids, and help others when they need it the extra help. The day I left them to come to Boston it was unfortunate for me because I was never going to eat the food that my grandma uses to make and drink the coffee that my grandpa used to

Living in a small, two bedroom house, two families manage to live there for a while. A family of eight, and a family of five use to sleep in a separate room at one-point. The house was not the biggest, but as family, they managed what they had. The house was surrounded with many fruit trees and plants, as the seasons would past. Living with my older cousins, it was awesome because my siblings and I had someone to play with. My relatives moved after some years because my youngest cousin was born and they needed more space. Many memories were made in this house, whether they were good or bad. Growing up as a kid in my parents house, I grew wiser through the years and learn to value what I have.

I was 5 years old when I had one of my first memories of talking with my grandfather, Poppy. He and I were sitting on the front porch of his 61-year-old suburban Kansas home, simply taking in the cool summer evening. No words were spoken and a calm air surrounded us. I remember looking out, beyond the neighboring houses, and being amazed at the scenery. The slowly sinking sun set the sky ablaze, making it seem as though the mixture of pale, white clouds and vibrant oranges were a painting on a canvas.

As I am listening on the phone to my family history learning where and who I come from, I suddenly realize why I am the way I am. I could imagine my grandmother looking out over the plantation at the sugarcane and soybean fields telling me about all the generations that grew up there. She was painting a clearer image of my ancestors as the minutes passed. The land has changed with time, as the lives of the many women who have lived there; however, their love for the land has endured. That love and passion has shaped my family into who we are today. Owning the Riverlake Plantation over the generations has given my family a chance to raise strong, independent people who will grow up to do something extraordinary with their life.

I never knew how important my grandma was to me until she was gone. I called my grandma, Mawmaw. She was short with white hair that she would always curl with rollers in the morning. She was a widow, because my grandpa, Pa, passed away when I was five years old. The perfume she wore made her smell like Warm Vanilla Sugar from Bath and Body Works. I never thought I would have to live my life without her until the day she passed away.