Good Example Of Essay On Narrative

When I was very young, I remember I was not very close to many members of my family. I come from a big family with a lot of cousins, aunts, and uncles. There was always so much noise. I never appreciated that as much as everybody else did when I was small. Looking back, it seems like other members thought I was strange because of this. I was the proverbial “black sheep” of my herd. Fortunately for me, there was another black sheep in our family, who I took to right away. My grandfather, who also enjoyed the quiet and solitude that my family did not bring with them, instantly became my favorite. He enjoyed my company, and I his, for the majority of my childhood.
Unlike many of the adult males in my family, my grandfather did not silently shun me from certain activities based solely on the fact that I was a girl. I watched him pay attention to all of his grandchildren and there was no discernible difference to how he treated any of us, whether we were his grandsons or granddaughters. He loved us and wanted us around. There just simply came a time when he wanted peace and quiet, as many elderly people tend to desire. I imagine this is why he and I understood one another and got along so well. When my uncles wanted to work on their automobiles, or take the children fishing, or any other loud and boisterous activity, my grandfather would read to me. On occasion, he attempted teaching me how to play Scrabble. When I was very young I had no idea what he was talking about, but I remember I loved hearing him talk, so I listened, and eventually I was able to play, however feebly.
He and I went for many walks, as well, when other members of our family elected to engage in louder and more boisterous activities. I did not want to wrestle and grapple with my cousins. I wanted to wander patiently and be alone with my thoughts, or think quietly with another person who understood me. My grandfather granted me that. While the rest of my family encouraged me to play and run around and be energetic, he was the only person I knew in the world at that point who allowed me to be myself. It was not based upon my gender or my age. He knew me by my name, and my demeanor. That satisfied him, and was so comforting to me. Visiting my grandparents and staying with them on weekends was enough to overjoy me in an instant, as he was one of my favorite people, and remains so to this day. It will come as no surprise, then, that his death was a terrible blow to me.
The trauma of his death rippled out from my childhood, into my adolescence. It affects me even today. The solitary member of my family who allowed me to be myself was gone in an instant. At the time, I was still at an age where death was not an entirely comprehensible thing. The situation was made worse by the fact that the one person I would turn to for answers was the person who had died. What was a little girl to do? My parents were upset, as was everybody else in my family, and for a while things were quiet. The solitude helped, as I grieved even as a child, though I did not understand what grieving was. I could not have mourned him under the normal, loud circumstances my family usually created. The solitude eventually passed though, and I was left to make sense of his absence in the chaotic whirlwind that was my family. There was nobody left like me. My grandfather’s death and this realization were deeply saddening.
While his death was traumatic, the lesson that it is okay to be myself stayed with me. I miss him every day, but I realize that it is all right to be quiet, to seek solitude, and not to partake in everything my family is doing even though they want me to. From a young age, my grandfather appreciated me for who I was. He did not judge me based on the rest of our family, or my gender. He noticed my character, and took note of my habits. These are the things that made me who I am and the things that he made mention of to me. It has always been very important for me to remember this lesson, and I am thankful he instilled it in me at such an early age. I see many of my peers being judged based on things that have nothing to do with who they are. Worse still, I see them adhering to these judgements, defying their character to fall in line. While I feel the urge to do this at times, primarily because it would be easier, I do not often do it because I know it is okay to be myself. I am not as quiet as I once was, nor as closed off from everybody, but I am still comfortable being who I am.