Personal Narrative : My Grandfather 's Biography Essay

My Uncle was married twice; first to Michelle he has three kids Michael, Brienne, and Killian. On January 10, 2002 he married the love of his life; the woman I call my Aunt Colette. She is no longer with us; she passed away on March 2, 2014. She was involved in a tragic single motorcycle accident. She was only 59. “We were all very grateful to know Colette, not only because of the wonderful person that she was, and the joy that she spread in our lives, but because she used all the moments in her life to share her wonderful experiences with us and took the time to teach us all a little bit about life.” Michael Purta (Obituary). The death of my Aunt was the hardest time of his life; not only mourning the loss of his wife, but learning

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.

A saying i've kept to myself is to get back up when knocked down. This saying doesn’t just stand for getting up when literally knocked down but can keep a deeper meaning than what it says as for example being knocked down by a difficult obstacle to overcome and getting up to find a way to get past it and achieving it. Some people may not see this as something important but they don’t think about how getting up after knocked down can be something that can or would have been like a positive outcome into their life and how they are given two choices when knocked down which is to stay down or get back up and continue going forward.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view-until you climb into his skin and walk around in it”. I chose to shadow my grandfather because I do not know all that much about him. My grandpa has always seemed like a very interesting person but he does not open up easily. That is another reason i chose to shadow him. My grandpa is usually toiling with a black powder rifle or he is making his own guns or doing research on a weapon unknown to him.

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.

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.

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

Deep in the woods there was a cabin at the end of a long, winding driveway. The screens of the windows were flapping in the wind. The steps creaked with every footstep that Ruth Smith took. As she opened the door to her Grandpa’s cabin, she wondered why he had given her this dilapidated building in his will. Ruth looked around the cabin and said “This is going to take forever to get ready to sell.”

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.

A family loved one dies,she was different from everyone else. She had a history of using dark forces to help her through life. She became distant,but knew the existence of all pre-existing and existing family. She focused on one in particular,Sen. Sen was a kid who has been beat up,bullied and his parents died when he was 7 so he was adopted. By the Pikes. 8 years pass… then Sen's informed his great great aunt died last night. When he goes to school that day,he gets informed his failing school. When school is over, five kids jump him outside by the school parking lot. Two kids hold him back as one punches him then they left him fall to the ground he stumbles to his feet only to get kicked back to the ground. Then as Sen starts to fight

“Yet another boring, standard Monday morning.” Richard sighed as he walked to wake the men up. “Attention!” Richard called out loudly to the groggy and fatigued Marines. The men immediately woke up and began their rigorous routine of drills for the day, which are: eating a hearty breakfast, run 2 miles, then do the obstacle course, and then everyone's favorite part, the shooting range. Then, as always, Diedrich Manfred was horsing around again, playing with his rifle. “You no good scoundrel!” Richard shouted walking over to Diedrich Manfred.

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.

"Never forget the past…because it may haunt you forever. Regret all the bad things…cherish the good things. Look ahead always…but don't let the bad things from the past get in your mind." As a young child, there were so many incidents in my life that made me become the person I am today. There were rough times as well as good times. If I were to tell you all of them, I would remember half of them. I think some of my incidents really had some impact, and some were just simple ways of life. To tell you the truth, the incident that had the most impact on me has to be when my real father left me at the age of three. I never knew my father. I mean being a baby, you really have no experience or recognition of somebody else.

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.

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.