Personal Narrative - My Parents Funeral :: Personal Narrative Writing

Narrative- My Parents Funeral Celery sticks served as slugger bats olives substituted for baseb each(prenominal)s to be smashed across the kitchen. Cousins Sonny and Guido were pitcher and catcher, and my sister Dorrie was a faction of infield and outfield. I came up to bat for the first snip expert as Gramps called for us to come into the living room. A officer stood in the doorway. Nonnie and Aunt Sandy were crying. All morning we had been told to stop hint the Thanksgiving dinner or we would be punished. Who expected to go to put aside because of olives Gramps pulled Dorrie and me onto his lap and hugged us close. Your momma and daddy were going to pull Uncle Vince and a truck hit their car. God took them to heaven. He started to cry. I wished he would let us down. His prickly sweater smelled of tobacco, and his mouth was purple from wine. Dorrie and I went home with Aunt Sandy. My stomach was hurting and making tiger noises, nevertheless everybody w as crying so I was afraid to say I was hungry. In the morning we went to a dark room where Mother and Daddy were deception in coffins. It smelled so sweet in that room, and the red-glassed candles burning everywhere do it sticky hot. Mother wore a lacy sound dress. A pink satin blanket covered her feet. Daddy looked so white, as if he wore fundamental law like Mother. Folded newspapers were hidden inside his trouser stagecoachs. At night we all knelt down on the blue carpet and prayed a long, long time with Father Minnorra from Our Lady of the Angels Church. My knees were sore and I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. Aunt Sandy touched my shoulder and said, Marie, stop that rocking. Kneel up. The morning of the funeral was very bright. The curtains were opened in the coffin room. Aunt Sandy held my hand. She wore a black hat with a hulking black feather. Her eyes had big red circles around them, and her mouth was bright red. She reminded me of the clo wn in my carnival coloring book.