Personal Narrative: My Grandpa

“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 family and I got up, got ready, and drove less than a mile down Old Hickory Boulevard to Forest Hills Baptist Church, like we had always done. Except, that day I packed my swimming trunks. On August 5th of 2007, I was baptized by a minister at my church. I was eager to get started. With both of us cloaked in white, the minster and I stepped into the baptism “tub” during the worship service. Colorful rays of light were beaming through the stained glass windows, the water was warm, and my mother was standing beside of me for comfort and reassurance; I was at peace. Out of the opening, I could see the watchful eyes of the choir, worship leader, congregation, and my family; I was at peace. As part of tradition, I was getting ready to be immersed into the water; I was at peace. While in the water, an extraordinary sensation of purification swept through my body. I, for the first time in my eight years of life, had truly felt cleansed from head to toe. This feeling was a direct action of the Holy Spirit entering and presiding in my vulnerable self permanently.

My current plan as far as outlining where this thesis is going to go involves dividing Grandpa’s story whereby every part of it will fit into each among the five assigned milestones, starting with his earliest memory in 1941 of Christmas Day at 4 River Lane.

Something unexpected that happened to me was my grandpa's death. It impacted me a lot because me and my grandfather were really close since I was a baby. But suddenly he got really sick and passed away.

It’s so still here, so quiet, so peaceful. I walked past rows of gravestones as I finally approached the site where my relatives lay. To many, visiting their relatives in a cemetery can be a sad experience; I however, was happy for them, because they still gathered together as they had before. I smiled as I remembered those times, when I was but a child and I could just barely see over the table. I could hear their talking and laughter again. How warm and familiar it all was! I remembered how laughter would erupt after my father told a good joke – he was always telling jokes. I could even smell the feast my mother and aunts would cook for us, and could almost feel them slapping my hand as I tried to sneak a piece of turkey before the meal. I remembered sitting at the smaller table with my cousins and siblings, feeling as if I were too old to sit at the kid's table. I remembered feeling left out, as if the adults kept some kind of grown-up secret from me. That same feeling I felt again, as I stood there seeing them all lying as they used to sit, in those two long rows. Although I had grown to be an adult, they still seemed to keep some secret from me, one that I was not to know of yet, one that I am not ready yet to

The truth is, I didn’t want to go at all, and I knew it would be very painful. Sure enough, when the deceased young man’s mother’s eyes locked on mine and she grabbed my hand, it seemed like an eternity! It was like she was holding on to her son’s life; it was painful, awkward, and very hard. I’m glad that the kids talked me into going, it was healing for everyone.

“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.

It’s the start of grand final day. I wake up extremely nervous about it because of what happened last year. So last year we were in the grand final playing the same team (the dogs) and on the same ground. i was going for a mark, running as hard as i could to get go for it, but unfortunately, a player from the dogs comes in head first and headbutts my chest and breaks 3 of my ribs and we lose by less than a goal.

Singing the chorus to the songs , jumping and clapping uncontrollably made me forget about all my worries. We sat down knowing it was time for Gods message. I listened closely writing down important notes about Gods works. Bowing our heads, I felt the presence of God moving in the room. I drowned my face with slimy snot, pouring my eyes out to God. I thanked him for loving me. Realizing, God will always be on my side even when my family is not there. Knowing today that God is my saver makes me a stronger than I was before. Later that week, I was baptized in the ocean , I felt

My grandpa Bill Headly should be the 2018 A.A.R.P Grandparent of the year. He is caring about family, hardworking, and a good role model.

Grandpa,my brother,and I got in the car and went to the junkyard to get a rim.When we got to the junkyard we were successful at finding the rim.So me and my grandpa went in the back to look at some cars for some spare parts we did not find any but we kept looking we had to be alert and careful for alot of broken glass and sharp object hanging off the car and on the ground.I seen more automatic cars there then i ever seen.

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.

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.

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