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My Little Brother Wrote This????

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My Little Brother Wrote This????

Postby Carney » Tue Oct 03, 2017 3:21 pm

This is a reflective essay on the death of my Gran.


PLEASE CAN YOU PROOFREAD IT AND CORRECT AND IDENTIFY ANY GRAMMAR OR PUNCTUATION ERRORS, RIGHT DOWN TO THE SEMI-COLONS AND COMMAS.


ANY HELP IS GREATLY APPRECIATED, AS I AM NOT GREAT AT ENGLISH.


THANKYOU.


Death? Essentially it?s a subject which no one dare speaks of, almost forbidden territory, at least it was in my solemn upbringing, seen as an event which does somehow not affect anyone dear or significant to me; only others. This indeed was the concept I continued to perceive and naturally accept back then. How immature was I?

Gran had been ill for some time. Days, weeks, months passed me by in a haze, as she drifted in and out of consciousness. It wasn?t long before her diagnosis was confirmed; it was cancer. From that grim day on Gran's health continued to deteriorate, becoming embroiled in a downward spiral. I knew, even though I wasn't supposed to, I knew she wasn?t her anymore; that she wasn?t my Gran. Every hour of every day suddenly evolved into a harrowing mix of desperation and fear. What was the outcome? death? It seemed inevitable. The feeling of angst and desperation was crushing me, but nothing could compare to how hopeless the situation felt; I had no inkling of what I could do to help.

Gran and I were as one. We bore an unbreakable connection; a relationship not typical of any other grandmother and grandson. Ours was indeed something unique, significant, one which flourished year after year like the small crimson rose tree in our rear garden. Though today, the unkempt flowerbed where the rose plant once smartly stood no longer exists, it withered in the blazing sun just as our relationship had; unmoved in its roots but no longer thriving.


Life, for me, had been difficult from a very young age. My Gran had essentially occupied the role of mother and guardian, considering my parents filed for the divorce when I was merely four, going their separate ways; leaving me behind. Despite this rather disturbing event in my early life, I maintained the belief throughout my adolescence that as a result of dealing with hurt from such a young age it offered me some sort of protection; a barrier. Now upon reflection I appreciate how innocent and naïve I was; the heartache I experienced as a child had done little to ?toughen me up?, on the contrary my realisation of this left me feeling more exposed to hurt than ever, like a child, unable to find any logical coping mechanisms.
Carney
 
Posts: 56
Joined: Sat Mar 15, 2014 2:40 am

My Little Brother Wrote This????

Postby Eilwyn » Tue Oct 03, 2017 3:25 pm

Death? Essentially it?s a subject which no one dare speaks of, almost forbidden territory, at least it was in my solemn upbringing, seen as an event which somehow does not affect anyone dear or significant to me; only others. This indeed was the concept I continued to believe and naturally accept back then. How immature was I?

Gran had been ill for some time. Days, weeks, months passed me by in a haze, as she drifted in and out of consciousness. It wasn?t long before her diagnosis was confirmed; it was cancer. From that grim day on, Gran's health continued to deteriorate, becoming embroiled in a downward spiral. I knew, even though I wasn't supposed to, I knew she wasn?t her anymore; that she wasn?t my Gran. Every hour of every day suddenly evolved into a harrowing mix of desperation and fear. What was the outcome? death? It seemed inevitable. The feeling of angst and desperation was crushing me, but nothing could compare to how hopeless the situation felt; I had no inkling of what I could do to help.

Gran and I were as one. We bore an unbreakable connection; a relationship not typical of any other grandmother and grandson. Ours was indeed something unique, significant, one which flourished year after year like the small crimson rose tree in our rear garden. Though today, the unkempt flowerbed where the rose plant once smartly stood no longer exists, it withered in the blazing sun just as our relationship had; unmoved in its roots but no longer thriving.

Life, for me, had been difficult from a very young age. My Gran had essentially occupied the role of mother and guardian, considering my parents filed for the divorce when I was merely four, going their separate ways; leaving me behind. Despite this rather disturbing event in my early life, I maintained the belief throughout my adolescence that as a result of dealing with hurt from such a young age it offered me some sort of protection; a barrier. Now upon reflection I appreciate how innocent and naive I was; the heartache I experienced as a child had done little to ?toughen me up?, on the contrary my realization of this left me feeling more exposed to hurt than ever, like a child, unable to find any logical coping mechanisms.
Eilwyn
 
Posts: 51
Joined: Sun Mar 30, 2014 8:24 pm

My Little Brother Wrote This????

Postby Brad » Tue Oct 03, 2017 3:26 pm

I feel your piece if disorganised and loose.

I've rewritten your first paragraph making it simpler, whilst trying to keep to your style.

I'm not suggesting that mine is better; but that it's easier to read.

Death? Essentially, it was an event that no one dared speak of, a kind of forbidden territory, an event that somehow would never affect those closest to me, but only those closest to others. At least that's how it was portrayed during my solemn upbringing. And I readily accepted this to be true.

Good luck.
Brad
 
Posts: 50
Joined: Wed Feb 19, 2014 4:12 am

My Little Brother Wrote This????

Postby Ariance » Tue Oct 03, 2017 3:29 pm

No. You have posted this so many times. First as a story, now as an essay? First you said it was yours.
Now its your little brothers? Ask someone else. we have given all the help we can give
Ariance
 
Posts: 54
Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 10:17 pm


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