How Grandpa Ron Changed My Life

I still talk to you when I am troubled. You also make me laugh and are very fun to hug. Grandpa Gary, it is so fun talking about expensive watches and shoes with you. You are the only one in the family who likes that kind of stuff. It is also really fun to watch horse races with you and talk about life in general.

Anyone that came in contact with him, could tell that was his biggest and most honorable trait. He knew when enough was enough, he knew when to leave the bar, and he also knew when his granddaughters wanted attention and affection from him. Growing up across the street from my grandpa, I was able to watch and observe him go through many stages of life. He was my biggest trainer of moderation, self-discipline, and love. He may not have always stopped when others thought he should and he may not have spent as much time with us as we thought we deserved, but he knew the right things to do for himself or other. I was so easily influenced as a child, that I was affected by the right and wrong things I would see happening. While my grandpa didn’t always do the right thing, he always showed me how it was wrong and what I could do to make it

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 remember the days when my grandma would be the one taking care of me after school. Each and every school day, I would eagerly wait for school to end so that my grandma could come and pick me up to bring me back to her apartment. Each and every day, she would come 15 minutes after school had ended to avoid the hassle of dealing with all the parents coming at the same time to pick their kids up. I didn’t mind though, that gave me time to talk to my teachers about issues that I had or just to socialize with my friends. Once my grandma arrived, I would quickly drop what I was doing, say goodbye to whomever I was talking to, and go straight to the car to keep my grandma from waiting. My grandma would immediately greet me and ask how my day

I can remember quite decently it was a warm summer day and I was sitting in my grandpa’s recliner watching cartoons. I always sat in that chair mainly because everything else smelled like fresh smoke consequently, this was due to the fact my grandmother has been smoking a pack a day for about seventy-five years. Graciously, my mom had already left with my brother and sister as well as my grandma. My grandpa, “Chuck” as my grandma always called him; was not a morning person. By the time he was up it was already lunchtime, although that never seemed to bother him. When I was younger, I always noticed him go to the basement. He would be down there for several hours at a time, which would make me very curious. Finally, my curiosity caught up with me, and this time I followed him down. Now Chuck was a very quiet man and he did not say much. If he did, it was probably something about politics or life itself. When I was down in the basement, I sat on a stool right beside him at his desk. I quickly noticed his organization process, which was to make sure nothing fell

However, one character in my life was never ordinary; in fact, he was the exact definition of extraordinary. My “papaw” became my favorite playmate, my other half, and my best friend. We were commonly referred to as "two peas in a pod" and " each other's pride and joy." I loved my grandpa in the deepest, most sincere way a young child could. As I grew older, my grandpa assumed the role of my confidant and supporter. When my grandmother would scold me or when my sister and I would argue, I knew that I could retreat into the loving arms of my grandfather. The only thing that he ever did to upset me was when he said, "When I go, I'll miss everyone, but I'll miss you the most, Bug." Little did I know, I would soon long to hear these

My uncle ray loved telling jokes, he had very funny corny jokes. He was also very shy, but outgoing to his own friends and family, and that's the uncle ray I remember. There are many memories I have of him, one is the time he helped me play the guitar. I was stringing the guitar on the couch, and he helped me string it and play a few notes. He looked up

According to National Down Syndrome Society statistics, approximately one in every seven hundred babies in the United States is born with Down Syndrome. My youngest sister, Reagan, happens to be that one in seven hundred. Excited and happy, Reagan always has a smile on her face (BE1). She loves to dance and sing, play games and watch television, roll her eyes and make sassy jokes (SC6). Reagan being born has changed my life for the better.

Salathiel Cooper, or Mr. C as I called him, was my dad's best friend; more like his brother. He was tall, heavyset, dark skinned and had a strong bohemian accent. I don't remember a moment in my life without knowing him. When he came to know my parents, they hit it off and he was just always there for us. We met him through my mother's best friend, Ruth, who was in a relationship with Mr. C at the time. From the time of when I was only 2 years old, all the way until his death, Mr. C was closer to me than most of my own family. He attended all of my sister's plays and talent show performances as well as mine and he came over our house every Sunday. He was basically like our grandfather;

I distinctly remember the weeknights at his house. Sitting upon his lap, walking down the street, getting pulled in my wagon through a park--these were things I loved doing with Grandpa. I was not just another person to him: I was the ultimate grandson, and I was special.

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 can remember quite decently it was a warm summer day and I was sitting in my grandpa’s recliner watching cartoons. I always sat in that chair mainly because everything else smelled like fresh smoke consequently, this was due to the fact my grandma has been smoking a pack a day for about seventy five years. Graciously, my mom had already left with my brother and sister as well as my grandma. My grandpa, “Chuck” as my grandma always called him; he was not a morning person. By the time he was up it was already lunchtime, although that never seemed to bother him. When I was younger, I always noticed him go to the basement. He would be down there for several hours at a time, which would make me very curious. Finally, my curiosity caught up with me, and this time I followed him down. Now Chuck was a very quiet man he did not say much if he did, it was probably something about politics or life itself. When I was down in the basement, I sat on a stool right beside him at his desk. I quickly noticed his organization process, which was to make sure nothing fell off the

For many people, Grandpa is a storyteller, someone to go fishing with, and someone who has your back no matter what. The experience I had with my grandpa was a little different. I never got the opportunity to meet my great-grandfather Liston Grider, but he still somehow managed to have a huge impact on my life. Sometimes my mom would tell stories about him; happy memories from her childhood, sad ones that were painful for her to tell, and everything in between. I thought I had heard it all, but this past summer I learned something about my great grandpa that would perhaps impact my life forever. This story was not told by my mom like usual, but by someone who was a complete stranger to me. The lessons I learned would not be taught in a single day, but over the span of a month through a series of Facebook messages and letters in the mail. The words I read upon opening those messages and letters would change my life forever, permanently transform my beliefs, and show me what it truly means to be an American.

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.

The event on meeting my grandfather. The first time I met him was around the time when I was ten or nine years old at my old house seeing tv . My mom passes me the home phone and I remember seeing my mom happy when she passed the phone to me. On the other side of the phone was my grandfather the first thing he said to me was “How are you doing Isaias.” I said “ everything is good how about you grandpa.” He took a while to respond back and said “Same here just the weather being cold.” I laugh a little of the way he responded so I say “How do you know about me and my name.” Grandfather responded “Your mom told me many things about you.” I was thinking about what to say next then I say “ can you tell me something about you grandpa.” It was an interesting when we first talked to each other we had the simple conversation as a kid I didn't know he was my grandfather. It took me a couple of minutes because of my Spanish was so bad but he knew what I was trying to say to him. When I first talk to him I felt comfortable with because this is someone that wants to hear what I have to say. I have never seen him the person or seen a picture of him at the time but that really didn't matter at the time. I know it weird that I haven't seen a family picture of him or anything like that. I asked my mom about it and she told me that my grandfather wasn't a picture person. Later on, over many fun phone calls and years later I get to see him not in person but at a video chat. This was