Picture Of My Great Grandpa example essay topic

Lying on bed with little consciousness, I look around the room, searching for the familiar faces that I loved so much. They are there, my dearest daughter and my granddaughter. They stand at the door, looking at me, weeping, with sadness in their eyes. I give them a weak smile. I know I was dying. I am 82, have lived long enough and have enjoyed so much good time.

Five years ago, I sent my husband away, and now, it!'s my time. The pain tortured me for a long time seems to disappear now. I feel calm and peaceful. Then I see a tunnel of white light coming towards me. The light is gentle and warm, and a figure is looming at the end of the tunnel. I find myself in the tunnel, walking towards the figure.

As I walk, a succession of pictures flashing before me, all are pictures of me, from my childhood to the old age, just like a video camera rewinding my whole life. I see a picture of my great grandpa and me, me riding a tricycle quickly and grandpa chasing me, looking angry. Oh, I do remember what happened. I was 5 years old then, and was living with my great grandpa. So mischievous I was that I threw a little muddy scoop into a big jar that was filled with drinking water, thus making grandpa really angry. Trying to get away with the blame, I rode my tricycle trying to escape form the crime scene.

And he was chasing me. The run-and-catch game started from the house to the end of the street, attracting quite a lot of spectators. It was so impressive that my dearest grandpa always mentioned to me when I grew up. There is a picture of my family in New Year!'s Eve.

The background is a lot of fireworks, which are so shining that make the sky bright. And we are all wearing thick clothes, smiling, looking up the beautiful sky. What a wonderful moment! That was the first time for me to invite my parents to a trip to Harbin in spring festival, which I had been dying to do for a long time. And that was the luckiest trip for me because I met a young man there, which later became my lifetime partner.

Everything is so clear that it seems just happened to me yesterday. I remember that!'s the first year after my graduation from the university. Then goes the picture of a hospital. White walls, white beds, white sheets, white uniforms. Everything is white and so is my face. I am lying in bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

That was the hardest moment in my life. Having reported some great news, exposing the seamy side of the society, I was at the peak of my career as a news reporter. Hated by those who regarded me as an obstacle, I got involved into a premeditate car accident, which cost me one leg. Losing a leg almost made me crazy since I could not continue to do the job that I loved so much.

What!'s more, a jobless handicap made me a burden to my family, a fact that I cannot endure. I was totally down at the time. Ironically, I got my first crutch that year, on my 38-year-old birthday, which should be given to me 40 years later. The pictures keep flashing. One of them shows that I am sitting on a balcony, with my laptop on my knees. Below the balcony was a noisy village.

Well, maybe I! d better not call it a village but a small city. There aren! t any rivers, fields, trees or flowers in sight. Instead, there are high buildings, crowded stores and all kinds of vehicles around. The scene seems a little bit strange. Oh, that!'s the picture of me in Venezuela. I was traveling in the South America at the time, and made a short visit there.

After that terrible car accident, I re-collected my courage for life and found a job as a columnist, writing travel journals for a magazine. Thanks for the advanced scientific technology that enabled a one-leg woman to travel around the world conveniently. More and More pictures go through quickly: the quarrel with my parents, the moment of tending my father in the hospital, the expression in mom's eyes when she is leaving me, the party for my career achievements with friends, the kiss with my first boyfriend, the first date with my husband, the first look at my granddaughter! -There are both wonderful moments and hard times. And happiness, sorrow, regrets, tears and smiles, all being a part of my life. I guess that!'s what life should be.

The nearer I walk to the figure, the stronger the light is. And I feel myself light as a feather. So light I am that I begin to float. The weeping of my daughter seems to fade away, and little by little, I lost all my consciousness. It's my first essay in English writing class.