Sound and Cheerful Elderly Lady Essay

I was only one year old when I first met my great-grandmother, the first few words that came out of her mouth surely was not music to my ears. My great-grandmother was a very petite lady with hair that looked similar to someone drenching her hair with salt and pepper, with a silky dress that ran softly along her petite body. My great-grandmother was ninety-seven years old at that time and who barely lived in the United States for only five years. For some reason, my great-grandmother only preferred to talk to me, satisfying every bit of my soul. Although, I did not know how to respond to her, often then using “ga-ga-goo,” I still felt as if she understood. My great-grandmother was not the typical person everyone pictured her to be. She never laid down in her bed all day. She was the most energetic, most fascinating, and most cheerful elderly lady anyone could ever imagine. My great-grandmother’s voice was the best music I had ever heard in my life. In a heartbeat, the music I was once used to hearing gradually faded away. The sounds that lifted my soul disappeared forever. My great-grandmother passed away on May 14, 2004, which was the day that I celebrated my fourth birthday.

Now, when I visit my great-grandmother at the cemetery, I still hear the music, but this music I heard was not satisfying my soul as it was only one year old when I first met my great-grandmother, the first few words that came out of her mouth surely was not music to my ears. My great-grandmother was a very petite lady with hair that looked similar to someone drenching her hair with salt and pepper, with a silky dress that ran softly along her petite body. My great-grandmother was ninety-seven years old at that time and who barely lived in the United States for only five years. For some reason, my great-grandmother only preferred to talk to me, satisfying every bit of my soul. Although, I did not know how to respond to her, often then using “ga-ga-goo,” I still felt as if she understood. My great-grandmother was not the typical person everyone pictured her to be. She never laid down in her bed all day. She was the most energetic, most fascinating, and most cheerful elderly lady anyone could ever imagine. My great-grandmother’s voice was the best music I had ever heard in my life. In a heartbeat, the music I was once used to hearing gradually faded away. The sounds that lifted my soul disappeared forever. My great-grandmother passed away on May 14, 2004, which was the day that I celebrated my fourth birthday. Now, when I visit my great-grandmother at the cemetery, I still
hear the music, but this music I heard was not satisfying my soul as it