My Grandmother

My Grandmother

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

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