My Grandfather, C.t, And My Father

I spent a good part of my childhood visiting my grandfather in the hospital. Those will be the best and worst memories of my childhood. I loved going to visit my grandfather but I also hated it. I loved going to the hospital because I loved seeing the doctors and nurses in action. I loved seeing how they handled their patients and I looked up to them because of how they took care of my grandfather. But I also hated going to the hospital because that’s where you would see so many people spending their last few days or hours with their families and that just made me have a mournful feeling deep down in my chest. I have always looked up to my grandfather. I was his right hand man or in this case his “right hand granddaughter.” He was my best friend, my hero and a second father figure growing up because even though he was battling cancer he still was the

I never has a chance to meet my grandparents from my father’s side because they were both deceased before I was born. They both passed away from terminal illnesses which include lung and colon cancer. Although I did not have a chance to meet them they are still known through the legacy their children have passed on. My grandparents gave birth to four children including my father. My aunt, Madlen, and my two uncles, Avik and Vartan. From all of my aunt and uncles the emotional endurance and strength of my Uncle Vartan has amazed me. His wife recently passed away from a terminal illness in which she lost her ability to complete everyday functions such as speaking, eating, or moving. As her

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.”

In 1912 a child was born his name was Everett Babcock (1912-1974), he eventually would become my grandfather. In 1937 he would marry my grandmother, Mary McFarland (1910-1969) and they would have 3 children Everett Babcock (1937-2017) my father, Edna Mae (1940-2004), and Thomas (1944-2008). Everett worked as an auto mechanic and Mary as a beautician to support and provide for their 3 children. In 1969 Mary was diagnosed with colon cancer and die a short time later, 5 years later in 1974 my grandfather would be diagnosed with lung cancer but would suffer a heart attack and die. Since I was still a young child and didn’t live close to my paternal grandparents I don’t remember what the relationships were like. The most I remember is when we

I was raised mostly by mom after my father wasn’t in place once I was 10. I learned, both my paternal great-grandparents are deceased bon in the years 1909 and 1911. I do however remember a slight glimpse my father’s mother (my grandmother). She would always have homemade chocolate chip cookies for me every time I come visit. She passed away when I was 12. My father dad (my grandfather), I don’t remember much about him. I only remember that he enjoyed fishing, but never would invite me on his trips because he would say “It’s too dangerous out on the water kiddo”. Unfortunately, he too was diagnosed with cancer and passed when I was

On January 5, 2009 my father pasted away. He and I did not have the typical father-son relationship; we did not have a relationship at all. I presumed that it would have a little if any affect on me. However, as the semester continued, it seemed to get worse. Besides my father’s passing, several weeks later my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. It was difficult for me to deal with, but it was more difficult for my mother to handle.

My grandfather’s body was slumped over on one side of his wheelchair, and I screamed when seeing his face turning purple. A few moment later, my father ran into the house, and he immediately drove my grandfather to the hospital. The doctor told my family that my grandpa only had one week left to live. The next day, my father saw a text from my uncle saying that grandpa has passed away eight o’clock in the morning. My father felt regret since he did not have the chance to see him for the last time. I was overwhelmed and shocked by what my father told me. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding faster than the beating drum. It was at that moment my eyes started to become blurry because my tears slowly ran down my cheeks. My grandfather was the most inspiring man that I had ever made in my

7 years ago, my grandpa was alive and well, but 3 weeks went by and my mother explained to me that he had cancer. We went over to my grandpa's house to see him there he was sitting in the chair with a surgical mask this is when I realized he was sick. My mother was sobbing every night almost as if he had died I walked in there and I asked, 'are you okay?' She responded with yes, go to bed its getting late. Another few weeks went by and in this time, went to visit a few times my cousins, aunts, uncles, were all there. This was the last time I spoke to my grandfather, later that night my mom was crying extra hard and I was wondering what was wrong at the time I couldn’t think of what was wrong with my mom. This is when my dad told me that he had passed away I remember him saying that we need to love my mom and show that we care about her. My mom soon left to my grandmother's house, she went over there to comfort my grandma for her loss.

Grief and loss has been huge part of my life. Although my youngest uncle was killed in Iran-Iraq war; before I was born, he was always part of our lives because of my mom. My first experience of actual loss was my grandpa’s death. I was six-year-old. We were on vacation in another state in Iran, while he had a heart attack, and died immediately. It was such a shock for everybody. My mom got informed by her uncle that day, but it took us 12 hours drive to get back to our hometown. I still remember my mom cried, and moaned the entire time. My dad’s parents died before I was born, so my mom’s dad was the only grandpa that I knew. It was really hard for me to not have him in my life, though I couldn’t talk about it with my mom. In my culture, we

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.

For almost a decade I could not accept the reality of loss. But as time progressed, I learned how to turn a negative experience into a positive one. Although I still have periods of grief, I know my dad lives on in me. Every accomplishment I achieve, I think of him. My father would not want me to be depressed. He would want me to be happy and move on with my life. I view this as the reason why I have the inner strength I do as a young adult. I will never forget my dad and the times we shared. I understand the reality of loss. I learned to appreciate the time I have with those I care about. Time is fragile, we never know when we could lose somebody. Allowing myself to grieve, but trying to find meaning and appreciation in every hardship I faced enabled me to become

In middle school, the relationship I had with my grandfather was one which was unbreakable. Even though he did not live in the same state, and I had both of my parents in the home he was always there for me. We place bets with each other over sporting events, like the World Series or the NBA Final, and the loser had to pay up whenever we were together again. Because I lived in North Carolina and he lived in upstate New York, we only saw each other once or twice a year, but he made we had together the most enjoyable. When my family would make the trip to New York I could not wait to see him because we talked about the various thing we were going to do when we were finally together, things like going to restaurants, going to amusment parks, and going to the mall. As a young child, these were all things you love to do, and he would make these events family outings, so all my cousins who were around the same age would come as well. This brought our family very close. While he was alive I was played every sport, and excelled in most of them. I enjoyed golf in particular because it was a sport my grandfather never really played, making him fascinated in every aspect of the sport. Although I was a superb athlete, I was good student as well. I made honor every year and that was what made him the proudest. Of all his grandchildren, there were only a few of us who excelled in school, and he incentivized us to keep up the good work by giving us money. Needless to say, there was not a

Trying to be strong-minded, I asked to go back to school three days after my dad 's death. I remember getting on the bus and everyone 's eyes were on my siblings and I. Life had gone on the same around us, but yet everything in my family 's life had changed drastically. I remember when I first sat down and the girl in front of me named Zoey turned around to speak to me. She was several years younger than I and lacked a filter as so many innocent children do. She looked at me and asked, "How did your dad die?" I remember immediately feeling overheated and while I had been trying hard to act like nothing had changed, I felt that a bus had slammed into me again. I felt sadness the most in my dad 's death; but I also felt a strong sense of

My first loss was my great grandmother Lena. This lady never allowed me to go lacking with anything. She could not cook during this time of my life due to a stroke. However, if I said that I was hungry grandmother would have my grandfather to prepare a full meal for me even though it was late night. Did I say the meal was cooked after 12 midnight? As time passed my mother, who was her granddaughter, began saying that grandma was not doing well and that she had been diagnosed with cancer. I couldn’t quite figure out the extent or depth of the disease but one new that it was not good. Watching tears flow from my mom over the illness and suffering. Finally, one day mom called and tells my father that grandmother is requesting to see me at the hospital and for him to bring me. As I prepared to go, mom calls back and state that there is no need to come. But somewhere down on the inside of me; I still wanted to go and see my

I only got to spend 13 years, with my father, and in that time he made a huge impact on my life. My parents were, both very good people, and were taken from this Earth too soon. My mother passed in 2012, when I was 10, from breast cancer. My father passed in 2014, when I was 13, from a heart attack. They both made a huge impact on life, but I would like to focus on my father. He was 52 when he passed, and was a single father. He was a very humorous man, but was serious, when the time called for it. He enjoyed movies and cooking. He loved to share his favorite things with me, and my sisters. These three stories are three of my favorite memories, I shared with my Father.