My Life With My Grandpa Essay

My Great Grandpa was someone I always looked up to. He was someone I loved to spend time with. I always just thought he would be here forever, so I never even thought about never seeing him again. In my opinion my Great Grandpa’s death was a time I had act strong even though I wasn't. He was someone I talked to when I wasn't feeling myself. My Great Grandpa's death was one of the hardest experiences I've ever had to deal with.

“This is Tim from the paramedics,” he said. “I’m afraid your mother has had a heart attack and we are on our way to Henry Ford hospital now.”

Every summer since middle school I went back to Taiwan to take care of my grandpa. His health started to fail these recent years but my parents worked every summer so my dad would always send me back to care for my grandpa. Many people worked as interns or took classes during the summer while I worked as a caretaker in hospitals. At first I disliked my role as an caretaker because I believed that I was not gaining anything valuable and I was also not enjoying myself like all my friends. As the summers progressed I was able to get firsthand view of how the doctors would work endlessly to treat their patients while the nurses would work to ensure their comfort. I would just stay behind and watch them work to try and treat my grandpa for whatever disease he had at the time. Whenever my grandpa was ready to leave the hospital I would always see how grateful he was toward the doctors because they literally saved his life. The next summer when I went back to Taiwan this scenario would replay itself again.

(I was re-reading and noticed i didnt put age anywhere im 16.) Alright well I'm not sure why I'm on reddit venting this dosen't really feel like the place, but on Sunday morning my grandpa died. Here's the story on Friday night I was going to go to a football game but some weird surcomstances allined and I ended up not going I was in my room playing CS GO and my mom came in the room and said that my Grandpa collapsed and was being taken to the hospital and they thought he had a heart attack, but that wasnt the case. My mom and I got to the hospital and where sitting around fro a while then my sister showed up a while after. There was a lot of sitting and wondering then I was told I could go into the room I followed behind my sister she looked him in the eyes and said I love you he said I love you

American society is a complex and growing muscle, one that changes every couple of years, if one looks at society as a whole the only potential way of understanding society is by observing characteristics of an individual’s biography and history. My grandfather, Edwin Richard Constant was brought into American society being born in the District of Columbia, in 1943. At the time of his birth, World War II had just ended and my grandfather had moved back into the NY area where he was brought up in his grandfather’s house on the east side of Brooklyn along with his mother, father, and brother. Having little memory of his surrounding environment, my grandfather had little to say about growing up in Brooklyn. Though a critical aspect of his childhood which would later affect him in sever ways was being plagued by the lost of his brother. Towards the end of World War II, his oldest brother who served as a U.S Navy Medical Corpsman, was killed on the island of Okinawa while being assigned to a fleet of Marine forces. Unlike today’s society much of society at that time held strong ties to the catholic or Christian religion which resulted in my grandfather being raised religious. Every Sunday, my grandfather was brought to the local Episcopal Church trinity in Brooklyn resulting in the development of having an interest in the church’s sense of community later becoming an acolyte, singing for the church as a choir boy. At the time, my grandfather’s prominence in the religious

There has been many fights in history that took place for America. Many of those wars we have won. Many of those soldiers have died. Our American soldiers were so strong, loyal, and brave just for this country. These solders influence me every day and make me be brave in the small things I do. My grandpa was in Vietnam. If he wouldn't have been brave, he wouldn't be here today. He even got hit by a bomb, and through god he survived. These soldiers inspire me everyday.

My Grandpa’s fiance has to be one of the coolest and unique people that I have ever met.

My Grandpa, who we always called Papa, emigrated from Italy in 1958. Everything about Papa, I loved. He was a reserved man; it was undoubtedly my favorite thing about him. Because he kept to himself, it was a subliminal message that there was nothing wrong with me for being quiet too. Really, I rarely considered us quiet, rather, choosy speakers. That unspoken, no pun intended, understanding was everything to me. No other person my life had made me understand that it was perfectly valid to listen more than I talked. It shaped me tremendously; I’m convinced. To me, it was an intellectual silence because when he did talk, he promoted the importance of family, dreaming and relentlessly pursuing those dreams, as well as education and self-growth

Over 300 people lined up at the door of an oratory waiting to pay their respects. Regardless if they knew my grandpa or not it’s as if people felt some sort of obligation, like it’s the right thing to do to mourn over the loss of someone they may or may not have known. It was late January in the small town of Hastey, Minnesota, the ground was as frozen as the hearts of those mourning over the loss of my grandpa. When I found out my grandpa had passed away the piercing feeling in my gut was as harsh as the morbid,Minnesota winter.Majority of people there were nicely dressed in black, with black under their eyes as an accent because nothing but tears have seen those eyes in days.

Imagine being in a dark, cramped silent tunnel, with only a flashlight, a M1911 pistol, and a bayonet. Well that’s what my Grandpa’s job was like, His job was called a Tunnel rat and that’s what he was. A Tunnel rat’s job was to crawl into small cramped tunnels and flush out the Japanese soldiers and then blow up the tunnels. The dangerous part about being a Tunnel rat is that there were booby traps around and in the cramped tunnels and the Japanese had tunnels above tunnels with hole vents in them so if the Japanese seen the men that were crawling, they would drop a grenade and try to kill them. I am grateful that my Grandpa fought in the vietnam war and served for our country.

Grandma. I had the best grandma who was there for me like nobody but my sister who was also close to her. I remember Grandma lana coming over just because she wanted to see me and sissies smiles. I loved Grandma Lana. But then grandma was taken out of me, Chelsea and morgan's lives for some reason i'll never understand. Just 13 years later Mama missed Grandma so much she just had to go see her. I remember that day like it's the back of my hand… Mama, Chelsea, Me, and Morgyn, and baby puppy Cami, we go pick up grandma in the big ol truck. We head straight for the Missouri river to walk the sidewalks and let us kids play. Grandma was so happy to see us she couldn’t stop smiling but… just then she sits mama down and tells her “Vanessa,

Ultimately I believe that my grandfather is aging successfully. His ability to understand and appraise his stress throughout his lifetime as well as his failure to cope emotionally gravely affected his health. His blood pressure and heart disease does not compromise his social, emotional, or cognitive abilities. While is physical mobility is altered, with the assistance of modern medicine he is able to compensate for his disadvantage. In the long run it was not age related illness or disabilities that caused his health decline it were the long term effects of stress that had the greatest

My grandpa, Frank, looks very tough and as some would say manly. My grandpa has a very masculine build. Even though my grandpa comes across as somewhat of a hard-ass, he is actually one of the most loving and sensitive people I know. He is one of those people that cry really easily, and at almost every family gathering he tears up. It was the day before opening day of deer hunting 2014. That day was a very snowy and windy day. My grandpa and I were driving up to our hunting cabin in Forbes, MN. The conditions were horrible for driving and very unsafe. The conditions caused us to have to drive very slowly, and the normally three-hour drive took us over four hours. The dive is not a very eventful and is very dull drive. About half way through our drive I remember one conversation that we had that will always stick with me. My grandpa tells me that the reason that he had built an amazing hunting cabin was for us the grandkids. He says “I hope and

Grandpa would retire the flag when dusk came over. He’d walk through the turquoise of the front door and he’d struggle only slightly to turn the weary handle with a hand made blue by the slow veins painting the translucent paper palette of his skin. He’d cross the browns and greens which were his lawn, sometimes swampy from the spurting-spewing of the sprinklers that he could not fix forever, towards his nation’s symbol drooping nobly in the hot and windless air of the San Fernando Valley, where life is eighty degrees but still feels cold and lonely in the sea of homes and houses that never seems to end.

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.