My Life Of A Grandfather

An experience that really changed my life was when my grandfather was on the verge of death in the hospital. I remember seeing my family crying and my heart ached. I visited him every day and came home to study for my exams. I would sleep late every night to study and cry. In that moment, I realized how precious life was and how much of an impact we as individuals have other people. Ever since, I have tried to enjoy every single moment of life, whether a simple walk to school or spending time with my family.

One night in January, I couldn't sleep and it was 4am and then out of the blue I got a call from my sister.. At first all I had was questions, “What do you mean his organs are shutting down?” And then she said it-- grandpa’s dying. She called telling me that our grandpa, who was battling cancer on and off for eight years,

When you think of losing a grandparent in your life, you think of them passing away. You dread the day you will get the call that they are sick. You then begin to cherish all the moments you have with them leading up to their passing. You have time to except their sickness, and come to terms with the outcome that is to come. My PopPop is not here anymore, but do not get confused, for he is alive. I did not have warning. I did not have time to cherish him. I did not have time to say goodbye. My PopPop was on no medication, which was almost uncanny for a 75-year-old. Trying to encompass everything he was boils down to a few things that may not seem like much to someone who didn’t know him. He went on a walk every night after dinner, and would whistle the same tune when he was happy. He played the same little ditty on the piano every time we were all in the living room. He was a simple man who could not harm a fly, and a good man. Unlike the grandchild warned when they are going to lose a grandparent, I did not have this notice. I did not have time to go on one last walk with him, and I did not have time to record him on the piano. I did not have time to replicate his whistling song, or to spend time with the man I knew. My PopPop was the heathiest man I knew, but then he got depression. First slowly, then all at once. The man I knew had slipped from my fingers without any chance to hold on tighter.

When I was given the assignment to write an essay on an experience that changed my life, one thing instantly came to mind; In June of last year I lost my nephew, Timmy Hill. Experiencing this loss has greatly changed my life in many ways. Of course, a loss like this comes with many negative changes, but in some ways it has given me a new drive. I have learned to experience new things, I have been inspired to live a more active life, and I have a new will to accomplish things he would have been proud to see me accomplish.

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.

Backward in great Grandpa’s life, his warming heart and hardworking self decided to build a petite log cabin on the great hill of the family farm. The cabin which lives on with lots of laughing, family time, yummy food and concentrated fishing on the pond. Looking back on memories as just a young girl, remembering a long drawn out trip up to dubuque through the windy roads and forests of trees, reaching the destination of the family cabin. Recollecting the warm fuzzy feelings of all the cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents coming together for a day of canoeing on grandpa’s man made pond, gliding downward on the steep grassy hill, stuffing our faces in scrumptions homemade food and enjoying each other's presence. Grandpa, always teaching

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.

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.

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.

October 10th, 2013 at 7:30pm. The day of my grandma death. The day that changed my life forever. The day I will never forget. My grandma was my everything, she was the lady who raised me since I was born. I never had a mother or father, the only person who cared for me was my grandma. The day my grandma died I was in my senior year of high school and I had just came home from cheerleading practice. That was an unusual day for me because when I woke up that morning my grandma wasn't up cooking breakfast like she usually does she was in her bed asleep still. I looked outside and the sun was just rising. I went in her room that morning before I left for school and said these exact words, "Good morning grandma if you’re not feeling well, I could stay home with you and take you to the doctor." In a raspy low voice my grandma replied, "Good morning sweetie I'm okay I was just feeling a little sick this morning but I'm better now. You better get to school now before you are late.” Okay, Grandma Love you, call me if you need me", I replied. On my way to school all I thought about was why my grandma sounded like that this morning and how she wasn't up doing her normal routine. I have never seen my grandma get sick before. She was always the one taking care of me making sure I was okay. But I just pushed the feeling over just thinking my grandma was okay and I was just overthinking. I should've stayed home that day. I should've noticed that my grandma really was sick.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never ever the same.” - Unknown. This quote describes my relationship with my grandfather perfectly. My grandfather has been in my life longer than my own father. It is those people who mean the most to you and make marks on your life, somehow leaving a type of footprint on our hearts. I never realized this until it was too late.

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.

“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.

I remember when I was young, I loved fishing with my Grandfather because he was an amazing man who always cared for his family. It was one of the most exciting things I did as a kid because I felt like I was bonding with my grandfather. He was always fun to be around when he made jokes, played around, and taught me life lessons. Reeling in fishes was an accomplishment for me and my grandfather even if it was just one, we found it as if we did something great together. I remember sitting in the boat with him one Saturday morning as we were waiting to catch a fish. The weather was chilly 55 degrees as I recall. He was wearing his same old fishing gear [black rain boots with old 49ers hat and a white tee shirt with dark blue pants]. The sun was barely rising and I felt amazing, the scenery was beautiful I could see the orange/redness light of the sun rising. The boat was an old boat, but I could tell because of the green fading away on both sides, wasn’t to big ether just enough to fit 3 adults and the motor looked as if it was worn out. When I was there I didn’t understand why the fishes weren’t biting, I was contemplating if the worms were good. As the time passed me and my grandfather didn’t say much, I felt odd by it because we usually spoke, but this time I could feel it was different. I could not understand why he was so quiet, and as I was about to speak my grandfather told me” Bryan as you get older there’s morals you must stick with”, I