Grandmas Passing essays

Grandmas Passing essays Grandma was a frail older woman, in her early 70s, and of small stature. Her skin was of a light brown complexion, wrinkled and ashy. When I sat on her knee, her brittle hands would always gently wrap around my waist. I would kiss her on her cheek, which was always cold for some reason. Grandma always wore dark blue dresses that came down to her ankles and an old pair of black dress shoes everywhere. You know, the ones with no heels that appear as if they are slippers. She was old fashioned, and didnt hesitate to instruct my dad to switch me if I stepped out of line. Grandma was soft-spoken, but firm; I never back-talked her for fear of the painful consequences my dad would inflict on my legs. I remember one time I had acted up; oh I paid for that one. It had just rained, saturating the earth in the back yard beyond capacity. Mud puddles were everywhere; they were enormous filled with dirty grimy water. These mud puddles were everything a kid could dream of; they were irresistible. My cousins and I jumped, stomped, splashed, and rolled in the mud puddles; we had a great time. My grandma had told us kids not to track mud through the house, but I was having too much fun with my cousins to take her seriously. We were chasing each other, and I ran into the house with the mud still caked all over my body. My grandma caught a glimpse of me dashing through the living room when she bellowed for my father. Grandma told him that she had warned me to not track mud through the house, but I had done it anyway. My father came, took one look at the carpet, and instructed me to retrieve the switch. I did as ordered, and subsequently was beaten for my insolence. I had red whelps all over my legs; I never tracked mud through the house again. Mother summoned for Janelle and I to come to her room; from the sound of her voice, we felt she was distressed about something. As we entered her bedroom, we discovered she ...