Essay on My Hero, My Grandpa

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

There have been countless influential people in my life that I’ve come across. One who was a meticulous inspiration continues to be my grandfather. My grandmother had remarried to the one I call “grandpa” when I was at the age of five, and they both took to each other’s grandchildren as their own. With my mother and me only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out in the country, I’d spent heaps amount of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a father but my grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and willingly played the personification of a father figure.

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

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.

In many ways, my grandma is a stereotypical old granny. She loves to watch game shows on TV, she yells at you for not eating enough, and she constantly needs help with technology. Beneath her rough, wrinkled exterior lies an equally tough spirit. She has faced numerous challenges to get where she is today. Along the way she learned lessons that she passed down to her daughter, who then passed them down to me. My grandma taught me to work hard, to be persistent, and to treat others the way you want to be treated.

The old gentleman would appear at the most unexpected times, yet months would go by, and I could have completely forgotten him and grown up never to see him again except from the cove of childhood memories we for some reason never forget. Nevertheless, there he was; coming out of a back alley as I turned a corner; or crossing a street as I approached from the other side. Once old timer even came into the grassless yard of our shotgun double as I was sitting on the rotten wooden steps waiting for my brother and sisters to return from school, I wasn't old enough yet to attend. This was my station, to sit there and keep an eye on my stroke burden grandfather as he rocked and mumbled his thoughts to no one present. He stepped half way up the walk, and stood there, looking at me and I back at him more out of curiosity then fear. Eventually he reached out his hand as if to make a request or ask a question of me, then as if remembering, lowered his head and turned and walked away. One day I was standing in an abandoned field behind our house. We kids would meet their and think of games to play; mostly kick the ball. I was there tossing the ball up in the air, waiting for the other kids to show up, when I see him coming down the

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.

Throw all of this together you get Horses doovers. He would always comment about isaac and i fighting. He would always tell me that he has never met anyone who bickered more that Isaac and I. Grandpa also loved to be outside, when we went to his before school him and I would get a big bowl of Life cereal and go eat it on his back deck as we watched the sun rise. as we did this he would tell me about his strawberry garden and ow to and not to plant strawberries. He would also tell me all about the first critter he saw. He was a very smart man. If he couldn't identify a bug or bird it probably hasn't been discovered yet. He told me how to tell the difference between a male goldfinch and a female

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.

What is a hero? In my view a hero is someone that you admire. You may

For my narrative paper i will be talking about my life with my grandfather and just him in general. I will be talking about when he was born and the day he died, the time we had spent together, all the things that we had done in the time we were with each other, how much time we spent together, and how it impacted my life and everyone else's life in my family that was close to him. I will be answering all of these questions through my paper.

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 grandmother has a very softhearted voice that I still hear telling me goodnight when we were little. She would wait with us until we fell deep asleep. And even as we got older she would gather us around the kitchen table and let us watch the old fashioned ice cream maker churn the best vanilla ice cream and then she would load it up with chocolate chips, and our parents would always say, "That's too many.", and grandmother just let us keep piling them on. My grandmother is the kind, gentle, loving, caring grandmother that I wish my children could experience today.

“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.