Descriptive Essay About My Grandfather

It was an average day. I turned in my theme. I went about the day normally. It was all going to be fine, I thought.

Grandparents are the backbone of every family tree. They provide love and nourishment, and even an escape when your annoying parents are getting on your nerves. When your parents say no to junk food, they feed you chocolate chip cookies and M&Ms. Huh. That must be your grandparents. While my grandfather, Henry Malachowski, is still the backbone of the Malachowski clan, he provides me with some of life’s most essential lessons. My grandpa is someone I can depend on for his wisdom when the rest of the world’s advice is not adequate enough for me to succeed in my quests.

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.

Have you ever had a hero in your life, someone that is always there for you when you need them? I did, I called him "my dad." My dad was the only person that could make me laugh when I was feeling down. My dad was that person who had so much love for his family. My dad was the person who I could call and he'd always pick up. My dad was the person who would drop everything just to help me. My dad was the biggest hero in my life and to this day, still is.

At the end of the day, the U-Haul had been emptied and returned. Jason only had enough energy to shower, dry off, and barely reach the top of the stairs. He flopped the box springs on the floor and threw the mattress on top of them. Not bothering to make up the bed, he grabbed a blanket and a bare pillow and laid down. Sleep came immediately.

I have an abundance of grotesque, yet, barely visible memories of childhood. However, no breathtaking family trips, no unique family togetherness that taught a moral lesson, no abnormal holidays. We still ate family meals together, but most often the children and adults lived in different worlds. When I needed comforting or wanted the best of both worlds, I could turn to my Grandpa.

"Let's take a nap also maybe it will calm my stomach from the ferocity of starvation". My mom said grumbling. As they go to bed both of the have a uneasy feeling of lightheadedness but shake it off and go to sleep.

The first thing you notice about Grandma is her badgering voice. You likely heard her before you saw her, and when you heard her, it was rarely about something positive. She was always complaining about something, whether it be a disorderly kitchen cabinet or the pests that rummaged through her garden. She was never without an opinion, which she always made sure was heard.

I tossed and turned in the bed, seeming as I cannot get a comfortable position. Bobby then ask again, “Are you sure you’re OK?” “Yes, I think I am so tired I am unable to fall asleep.” As I was trying to get comfortable I then needed to use the restroom. I start on my journey to the bathroom, who knew that is where I would have stayed for the rest of the night. If I

I nodded and collected my bags before heading to the direction I hoped my dorm was. It was about ten minutes later when I realized I was lost. Great. My arms were tired, I was hungry, and I wanted to sleep.

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.

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.

“And now I’m not tired! I did all my sleeping then. I need another story so I can get tired again.”

Having a grandfather is like having a best friend. My grandfather was that figure for me, I called him Pop; he was my mother's father. Pop was always there for me, being a listener and an advice giver. Pop and I connected unlike any other family member I had because he always believed in me and supported everything I did. This support started ever since I was little playing sports and any activities I was engaged in. "Our relationship was unbreakable," my grandmother would always say. Having Pop in my life was like having a third parent with all the lessons he taught me before his death.

“Maybe you should go check on dad…” I trailed off, just wanting space. Besides my dad, tended to get over-worked on the smallest of things, and this situation was only 1000 times worse.