Lady In A Rocking Chair Essay -- essays research papers

Back &8230 fore &8230 back &8230 by &8230 she sits in her creaky rocking chair pleasantly reminiscing rough her lost childhood as she crochets a warm fuzzy quilt for her granddaughter. Out of nowhere her desire to finish the quilt before noon fades and she find her help drifting towards the window and looking at a giant maple point bejeweled in sparkling frost. The tree is old and withered, it has aged immensely it is moderately like the old woman &8230 even the texture of the bark is likened to the wrinkles on her face and body. Beyond the bark there is a history of both painful wounds and happy memories, all(prenominal) and either one just as vivid as the next. It is astounding how this tree, such an ordinary and natural good can bring back so many fond and colorful memories. One of the lower branches of the tree appears to be mangled and frayed. She remembers it when it was in entire condition, housing a handmade, wooden swing hanging from a sword refreshful strand o f coarse rope. Over the years the rope had moody from a brilliant golden-yellow to an almost brownish-amber. She would come home each daytime and was ever more than entertained by that same tree and that same swing, though she never understood why because to everyone else, it was just a tree, but to her, it was as comforting as a warm fuzzy blanket.She remembered attending her scratch line day of school when she was a young child. Everything was so unfamiliar to her new faces, new voices, a whole new world she could then separate on her own, with reveal her baffle holding her hand. Unfortunately the fun she expected to nurture did not go as she could have hoped. It was a seldom particular for anyone to ask her to play with them. She spent most of the school day in seclusion quietly playing in the corner with an array of shaping blocks. At certain points she just wanted to cry or go back home to the warm, loving arms of her mother that is where she felt prophylactic and sh ielded from the evil of the world. Somehow, no matter how bad her day had gone, her mother could always make it all go away with a downy kiss to the cheek and a gentle pat on the bum. She would always pack a nutritious lunch for her to take to school. There was something about the way a mother makes a sandwich that makes it taste so much better than when you try to make it yourself, maybe it&8217s because it&8217s made w... ...t year, the worst happened. She was diagnosed with cancer, the same kind her mother had died from just a few years back. The bad news hit her like a ton of bricks. Ingo attempted to ease her pain by taking her out and doing all sorts of fun activities, but she found herself getting even more depressed and frustrated every time they went out. To her, it was just a monitor lizard of the bad news and what was yet to come. Her condition began to worsen each and every day. It was unbearable for the family to watch, and as painful as it was to do, they began to a void her. Anytime they tried to comfort her, she would only snap at them, even though she knew they were only seek to help and had her best interests at heart.Here she sits, rocking in her rocking chair, back &8230 forth &8230 back &8230 forth &8230 with her quilt nearly finished now. Her rocking chair creaks with each subtle movement and eventually the creaking diminishes to a faint function and finally no sound at all. She had left the world in peace quicker than she had entered it but still much too soon. I guess it&8217s true what they say about your life split second before your eyes just before you die.