My Memories Of My Dad

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.

He had a big, deep voice, and thinning gray hair. His eyes were big and friendly. He was in no way a fancy man. He used to live in Brooklyn, and even among all of the designer outfits, he always preferred a simple t-shirt and sweatpants with a pair of worker’s boots. He lived his life however he wanted, even if it would embarrass those around him. No matter, he was a loving man, and he always had time for his family. He was never too busy with work or his social life to relax with us for a little while. These traits all came together to give him a lively, impish, and extremely loving personality. They made him my Grandpa.

As I was picked up the bad thoughts started to run through my head again, this time it seem like it was worse. The closer we got to the hospital the more I became weak. I didn 't know what to expect to be honest. I tried to prepare myself for the worse. As we entered the hospital and went to the emergency room, I walked into a lobby full of family, as I walked in my brother got me up to date with what’s going on. So I sat there patiently with my family, we all waited with anticipation for the doctor to deliver the news. As hours passed we finally got to talk to a nurse. She told us that the doctor would be coming out soon to get us updated with what’s wrong with my dad. When he finally came out he told us that everything was going to be okay, but if my dad would have came two minutes later he would have died. Man oh man that hit us all hard. But he also told us

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.

At 4:30 am, my alarm went off; I was more tired than ever. I rolled over stepping onto the wood floor. I walked to the bathroom feeling as if I could collapse and fall back into my deep sleep. After my shower, I went back into the snug, little room I was calling home for the time being at my grandparent’s house. I was at my grandparents house due to the fact that my dad and Stacy were already in the Dominican Republic. I packed my last few belongings and crawled back into the bed to fall asleep for a few minutes. I assumed that ten minutes had passed when I remember hearing my grandparents talking about how we had to leave soon. My grandma came in asking us what we had wanted for breakfast. Mickenzie and I told her we weren’t hungry and got out of the warm cozy bed to get in the car. After changing, we went out to the kitchen to say bye to our grandma, seeing that there wasn’t room for her in the car. She gave us a huge, tight bear hug telling us to be safe.

However, one character in my life was never ordinary; in fact, he was the exact definition of extraordinary. My “papaw” became my favorite playmate, my other half, and my best friend. We were commonly referred to as "two peas in a pod" and " each other's pride and joy." I loved my grandpa in the deepest, most sincere way a young child could. As I grew older, my grandpa assumed the role of my confidant and supporter. When my grandmother would scold me or when my sister and I would argue, I knew that I could retreat into the loving arms of my grandfather. The only thing that he ever did to upset me was when he said, "When I go, I'll miss everyone, but I'll miss you the most, Bug." Little did I know, I would soon long to hear these

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.

It had been a long tiring day ,my sister and i had gone to our mimi’s house for the day. She took us to see the movie in side out, my sister balling at the end. We also when out to eat at ihop, and shopping. My parents slept all day so they wouldn’t be tried to drive all night to Colorado and get there at about noon. We didn't leave until about 1 or 2 am, but I couldn't sleep I was to excited. Every time I closed my eyes eyes they just bursted open again. I was to excited to start driving, “can we go yet?” An hour of waiting, listening to the clock tick, we finally left! My sister watched frozen over, and over, and over again i think i heard let it go a milion times! I looked out the window, staring at the sea of green

“I know how hard it is to lose someone,” said Mrs. Navaz, my boss, as I asked for a day off of work. This was just recently when my grandfather had two strokes within a period of two weeks. When she first told me this, I was frozen; I didn’t know how to respond. I gratefully thought back to all the experiences I shared with my grandfather growing up and how he shaped me into the person I am today.

I had been focused on academics and athletics, and had delegated little thought to the status of my grandfather in the preceding weeks. It was the day of the eighth football game of my junior season. As I approached the front door to exit my home, I was interupted by my mother. She informed me that my grandfather had been admitted to the hospital, and would most likely not survive to Monday. I received this news, unphased. I reasoned with myself that I would visit later on, and that he would heal before the holidays.

I turned up the volume in my headphones as my sister, Amelia’s annoying voice sang louder as one of her favorites, but otherwise a terrible song began to play on the car radio. All I could think was just how much longer I would have to be in the car with her, I was ready to get out and stretch anyway, we’ve been in the car for nearly 3 hours. I knew that I would have to suck it up and deal with it until we got there, until then I would just have to keep quiet, saying something would only encourage her to sing louder. I started dazing out of the window thinking about our destination, we were headed to my great grandfather's house to try and clear out all of his belongings in order to sell the house after his recent death. His death didn’t affect

My Grandpa has passed away this year and every day I miss him more and more .But I will never forget how much he loved me. He was always so helpful to people even if he didn't know them .And this is the beginning of my story to tell all of you.One day my mom got a call from my grandma and she was in Michigan when it all happened. My Grandpa was in the hospital because he was badly sick.My mom didn’t want to tell us because we would all get sad.

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.

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.