Descriptive Essay About Grandfather

I know that he’s always watching me now. I was living life just as normally as the other 10 year old. That was until my grandpa had been acting up in the following weeks of my 11th birthday, he was not being his normal self. He underwent a CT scan in early December, and it revealed a tumor on his brain. He underwent surgery to remove the tumor and lost his beautiful, prized hair. Not many men could grow hair like he could. He was recovering well from surgery, and according to the doctors, he would have 6-12 months to live. All was well I was until I was in Fort Wayne, Indiana for a hockey tournament with my PeeWee A team 6 weeks later. My father had received a call from my mother, who was my grandpa’s daughter. She told him that a tumor had regrown behind one of his eyes, and it was the size of a softball. They had no choice but to put him on life support because the tumor rendered him brain dead, and let everyone say their goodbyes. “Feed the good wolf,” was something he would always say to us kids. He loved that saying. He lived by it. I lost the man I wanted (and still strive to) be like. He was the perfect grandfather, and although his life was taken from him at the age of 63 by some horrible disease, he lived a full life. On the dark, candle lit night of January 14th, 2012, I realized how precious life is, and I chose to “Live Like Larry.”

  The  screaming and angry comments are made from a personal state of mind. Parents do and go through more than what most teens could imagine. My grandfather was one. My grandfather, Jesse was a strong, emotionally and physically. Apart from all the laughs and smiles, he is one of the most adventurous men  Ive ever met. To be realistic, no one's life is perfect with only happiness. In his early years, life was pretty rough for him growing up. His life consisted of hard work. He was only human to manage through such horrible events he had to go through. Such adventures formed my grandpa into the strong man he was.

With white whiskers on his face, even after his morning shave, and the noticeable balding, my grandfather always looked comparable to a gruff man. You could tell he was strong and had a lot of pride by the way he carried himself. Being more of a cowboy type, he dutifully wore a plaid button-up shirt, bootlegged jeans, and country-style boots to match on the average day. He was a diligent man, and although his job kept him away from the home most of the weekdays driving semi-truck across the country, living on the farm he seemed to constantly be keeping himself busy doing something with his time off from feeding the horses, tending to the garden, riding four-wheeler, finding odd jobs here and there, and regularly playing with all of us kids.

I never really knew my grandpa as well as I would have liked. He was already an old, old man by the time I started high school, and my own memories of him are mostly of a man confined by age and ailing health. So I'm not really going to talk about my memories of him. Instead, I'm going to try to share his memories and the memories of those that knew him.

As soon as we finished the job, my uncle went and sat in the front

American society is a complex and growing muscle, one that changes every couple of years, if one looks at society as a whole the only potential way of understanding society is by observing characteristics of an individual’s biography and history. My grandfather, Edwin Richard Constant was brought into American society being born in the District of Columbia, in 1943. At the time of his birth, World War II had just ended and my grandfather had moved back into the NY area where he was brought up in his grandfather’s house on the east side of Brooklyn along with his mother, father, and brother. Having little memory of his surrounding environment, my grandfather had little to say about growing up in Brooklyn. Though a critical aspect of his childhood which would later affect him in sever ways was being plagued by the lost of his brother. Towards the end of World War II, his oldest brother who served as a U.S Navy Medical Corpsman, was killed on the island of Okinawa while being assigned to a fleet of Marine forces. Unlike today’s society much of society at that time held strong ties to the catholic or Christian religion which resulted in my grandfather being raised religious. Every Sunday, my grandfather was brought to the local Episcopal Church trinity in Brooklyn resulting in the development of having an interest in the church’s sense of community later becoming an acolyte, singing for the church as a choir boy. At the time, my grandfather’s prominence in the religious

I am most content when I am at my grandparent’s house. It is the most relaxing place in the world. Right as I walk in the door, the smell of either fresh baked cookies or hot blueberry pancakes with maple syrup make you feel welcomed right as you walk in the door. But that is just the great smell, they taste even better. My grandma’s cookies are always good but are best right out of the oven. The soft heated cookie with melted chocolate chips just melts in your mouth. And my grandpa's mouthwatering steaming blueberry pancakes can make anybody feel great and ready for their day. One of my favorite thing to do is watch sports with grandpa. It isn't much but it relaxes me. Another great memory is Easter. Every Easter

It’s been 4 months without grandfather. My life feels empty with no purpose. I never went back to retrieve the box. I didn’t want to be reminded of the pain. My mother reminds me everyday to at least go look and see what I find, But I see no purpose in that. I love my grandfather and it would be to hard to go back to the place I loved to be so much. His house has his distinct smell his manly smell. I used to wear his sweatshirts all of the time to make myself comfortable and loved. I can’t believe he’s actually gone.

I vividly remember his bright blue eyes making contact with mine, he was my grandpa and he was my role model. We did everything together, we would sneak a bite of supper without my mother knowing, he would watch me catch butterflies in the massive corn fields, and we would watch his favorite basketball team. I even remember hearing the crowd cheer, the basketball players shoes screech and my grandpa hugging me. His smell was so distinct and woodsy, even though now he’s gone I remember it to this day.

The crunch of frozen grass could be heard a mile away at five o’clock in the morning. My grandpa and I whispered conversation as we strolled over to our favorite deer blind. We cautiously marched over sticks trying hard not to make any sounds. We eventually made it without spooking any deer and set our guns down, waiting for sunrise. These are the times I enjoy the most with my grandpa. It is a chance to sit back and enjoy life with one of my favorite people on this planet. Time goes slower in these moments. It gives us a chance to share conversation about anything. We swap stories from the past and I always seem to learn something new from my grandpa. Whether it be from advice he gives me or from an experience long ago, I’m always listening. Although our experiences may be different we still love to enjoy the same hobbies together, whether it’s woodworking, hunting, or time out on the lake; sharing life with my grandpa is priceless.

I think the person who has had the most profound effect on my life besides my parents is my grandfather. I never realized before how much of an effect he had on my interests and goals for the future. Years ago, he used to tell me stories about historical events and experiences he had fighting in Vietnam and my great grandfather fighting in World War 2. His vivid descriptions always made it so interesting and, in some cases, more light-hearted than what actually happened. To this day he still has more stories to tell me, and never fails to captivate my interest. In doing this, he opened my eyes to my biggest interest, history, and encouraged me to pursue this interest throughout school. I feel like it would help to give a short summary of his life and how it affected me.

When we were together we were invincible, us against the world. I’d look up to him, not only because he was 6’4, but because he was my grandpa. I have clear memories of him picking me up from school, playing old school reggae music during our adventurous car rides. We’d always sing along to our favorites, sometimes turn the music up so loud the people in the cars next to us could hear it. When I would visit his apartment, the familiar smell of drywall and pennies would fill the air. It was my hideaway, my home away from home. My grandpa collected pennies in water jugs. He would say that one day they’d be worth more than just pennies. I loved it there, not only because he had a freezer filled with many flavors of ice cream to which he would often say to me “you can have all you can eat” but because it was our time to bond. For five years it was my mom, my dad, and my grandpa helping me to grow. Those are my favorite people, my role models. Being around my grandpa brought me such comfort and joy.

My grandfather is really something. I would always remember him when we drove passed his house,

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.

“I can’t believe that’s true!” I exclaimed, my laughter echoing through the room. My grandpa and I had been chatting on the phone for the past half an hour. You would imagine a man his age would be boring and dull. However, he was quite the joker. At least with me, since I was, of course, his favorite granddaughter.