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My Grandmother

             My grandmother’s appearance is frightful. Her hunched stature and her constant shaking would frighten any child. Her nappy black hair that lay placid in front of her pale blue eyes would at times seem to not have been washed for years. She’s a small, stocky old lady who sat lifeless at any dinner table. My grandmother appeared to me as a wretched monster.
             By her appearance anyone could see she was a very unkempt person. The random food stains on her ancient dresses, and her disregard for the conditions her house was in were just the beginning to her despicable state. As a child I would offer my help to clean her house when I would go see her about twice a year, but she would decline in a rudely manner, yelling,” Don’t you touch a thing, you’ll just screw everything up!” Relieved with her answer, I would walk away ignoring her insultations. I was looking forward only to the long awaited car ride home. .
             I had a dominant distaste for my grandmother. Throughout my life I have received no love from that woman. She has never given anyone a chance to love her. .
             Since I was little boy, I was brought up not to like my grandmother because she hated my mom for the fact that my mom married my father. As a child, I did not notice the negative actions that grownups had on other people until I was old enough to understand them. .
             When I was six years old, I remember the whole family going to pay a visit to my grandmother. Being a kid I would have rather sat inside playing Nintendo, but really did not give much thought about going to the house of the grandmother I never saw. It was a beautiful day out and everyone seemed a false sort of happiness. As my grandmother opened the door, she seemed to tackle my father telling him how much she missed him. I remember this day so well because my grandmother didn’t even take a second to greet her daughter-in-law or her three grandchildren.