Losing My Grandpa Research Paper

I have lost my grandpa and have not gotten over the idea of it. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandfather was very sick; he could barely walk. While my grandmother and some other family members went uptown for some household things, food, and medication, I was told to take care of him. Yet, I wanted to play with my friends outside. He told me to go ahead and play, but for some reason I just got mad and slammed the door and left. Around nighttime, I seen an ambulance pull up to my grandparents’ house.

My Michigan hero is not just a hero but is my grandma, she was always there for me through my ups and downs. Every day after school are used to go to her house, she would have Mack and cheese waiting for me on a little SpongeBob plate in front of the TV with SpongeBob on the TV. She was like my other half whenever I needed her the most she was there. She used to go shopping with me and my mom all the time and take us out for lunch. I alway imagined her being there with me all my life but that all changed. Just a couple years ago she had passed away and that was the hardest day of my life. I remember not wanting to go to her funeral because I couldn't stand seeing all the memories and pictures of us together. When I first walked into the room I just

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.

If you are reading this, i’m sure you might be confused, but it makes perfect sense. She was always helping me, and I was always helping her. My grandma is my hero not simply because she respects me and understands me, but because she is always there for me, and she always has been. She shows up at our house at least once a week, and when I needed to talk to someone I always had her to talk

families are home less until they get their home fixed other people don't even help them they ignore them I think that is rude because if it was a nice person they would help and give them at least a dollar for some food. Others moved and let the workers do the hard work. In my opinion I think they should at least help them and do some work too. Most of the community help pick up the trash so they can finish faster and the state is not so polluted. I started to understand that it's hard for families with their children because their children can get sick or die because all bacteria on the floor and in the air. It is sad when earthquakes happen because 10,000 usually

My Grandfather died on December 5th, 2015. I was 15 at the time and I had only just started highschool as a junior a few months prior. I didn’t get to see him recently before his death, nor was I able to say goodbye to him before his passing. Instead, I got to wait patiently while the man I respected for so long took his last breath. I watched as he passed away, right in front of my eyes.

The dumbest thing I have ever done was gone to an abandoned asylum while I was in high school. The asylum was in Forest Heaven and it was closed off from the public except for the fact that there was a real Mental Hospital and military base around the area. Me and a couple of friends decided to go check it out at night. To get to the asylum however you had to walk through a forest as roads into the asylum were closed off and gated by the military compound. We did not take into account that the forest was plagued with poison ivy and ticks. So when we went and walked through the forest twice we were covered in bites and poison ivy marks. I discovered that I had poison ivy the next day when I had marks all throughout my legs and hands. Later that

I read the sad news of losing Rocky, your precious boy. How very difficult this must be for you and my heart breaks. May heaven help soothe your broken heart and may you know that Rocky was brought home by your beautiful Angel. He is in very good hands and want you to be happy because you are a very special lady with a beautiful

My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.

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.

What does it mean to lose a leader? Does it mean that the next years will be the worst or does it give you a drive to perform so hard that everyone notices you? My leader growing up was and will always be my father.

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.

My great grandfather Bob Howell, who we called Papa Bob, was one of the greatest men ever in my opinion. He taught us many things, from how to treat one another to how to get through life accomplishing many things. Not too long ago he had experienced a fall. My cousins were outside doing yard work and had came in to get a drink, when the youngest heard someone. She saw papa Bob laying on the ground of his bathroom floor, and ran to get her sister. I got a call from her saying that she couldn 't get a hold of any of our parents. I started to panic and called my parents over and over until my dad answered. Papa Bob made it to the hospital, had scans done and got checked upped, but they said he was fine. As months went by he was never quite himself again, I blamed it on the fall secretly, but the doctors never found anything. It was getting worse and worse until he was put in the hospital. I knew his time was coming and I tried to spend time with him and listen to his stories when I could.

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 cousin, Richard, was such an inspiration to my two brothers and me. I looked up to him for everything. He was an amazing athlete who would never give up on or off the baseball field. I never knew how fast something could be taken away until January 12. I thought the world was just simply punishing me, but then I realized that I couldn’t control what happened even if I wanted to.