My Grandfather Essay

My Grandfather : A Short Story
I knew I had support from my family. Especially my grandfather. He was everything to me. He
was very smart and was very wise with everything he said. My family has always been there. One
day my grandfather made sure I knew. He was and always will be my lifeline. Everything had
been happening so fast. I had attended a Catholic school from kindergarten to third grade. After
being one of only the few non catholic kids my parents decided to transfer me to the public school
where my dad had been working at. If moving away from all of my friends wasn't big enough, my
parents told us we had to start watching our money. Mostly because they were both going back to
school to get their teaching degrees. It wasn't the fact we had to watch our money that hurt, it was
the fact that in doing so we had to move from our house. This house had been in my family for
generations. My grandpa had grown up in the house. He then raised his children in the house.
Then my mother was going to raise my brother and I, in this house. It was set on about 2 acres of
land with more fields surrounding it. It was big and sat on top of a hill. It looked like a castle
sitting up there with its two stories and long steps leading up to the doorway. I loved that house
and the idea of moving out of it made me so upset I cried for three days straight. But we had to
move because it was just too big and too expensive. About two years later my parents hit me with
another dagger. That day had been pretty much normal.
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My Grandfather
Sometimes it is difficult for kids to become really close with their grandparents, but for me it was
easy. Ever since I met my grandpa, I have had this connection with Gramps that has just continued
to grow. Most people have nicknames for their grandparents, but for me it is plain and simple,
just Gramps. To me, he isn't just my grandpa, he is one of my friends because of the impact he
has had on my life. Gramps has turned me into who I am today. He has brown eyes that remind
me of sweet chocolate, they are always so easy to picture in my mind. I could stare into his eyes
for days and it would never get old. However, he has thick old glasses that cover his rich brown
eyes. To go along with his eyes, he is always wearing his polo shirts, with all different types of
khaki pants. His favorite polo is his pink polo, and when he wears it he always says, "real men
wear pink." Every time he says that, I still laugh no matter how many times that he has said it to
me. To go along with his outfit, he wears old brown shoes all the time unless he is doing athletics.
One early morning, when I was ten, I woke up to my mom saying, "Sean your grandparents are
going to the soccer tournament in Florida." From that moment on I realized how much Gramps
cared for me, and him being there for me impacted who I was as a soccer player and as a person.
However, the good news was, that was the beginning of the best trip of my life. We woke up at 7 am
for our 9:30 am flight out of Cleveland Hopkins

Personal Narrative Essay About Grandpa
When I was six years old, my grandpa left my life so suddenly that it didn't feel real. My grandpa
was the only father figure I had at that time since my father was still in the Philippines. When he
left me I felt alone. I didn't understand at that time, but my grandpa was the most impactful person
in my life. I never got to tell him the one thing I should have told him. The morning was cold on
that Thursday, you could feel the September breeze inside my room. As I arose from my bed, my
mother came barging into my room and screams at me to wake up. This was a daily thing, so I
was used to it. As I got out of bed, I hurried and changed into my school clothes for the day. Then I
ran straight to my grandpa's room where he was watching...show more content...
As I turned into my driveway, I saw I big red vehicle that had the words "Medic One." I didn't
know what that meant, or who that car was for. The only thing I knew was that it was bad. Was it
for my grandpa, grandma, or someone else in the family. I rushed into the house so fast, I almost
tripped on the stairs to the front door of my house. My heart sank when I saw who was on the
stretcher, it was my grandpa. I shiver went down my spine. What happened to him and if he was
going to be okay. All I knew was that he was going to the hospital. I spotted my aunt, and grandma
talking to the paramedics. But, my brother came and got me, so I wouldn't see a thing. It was too
late for that. No one told me anything, I was kept in the dark and it was frustrating. The one
person I cared about was hurt and I couldn't do anything about it. I knew what was going on for
the most part, but no one would tell me the truth or give me answers. They kept me in the dark. I
looked at my window, and caught a glimpse of the paramedics loading my grandpa into the
ambulance and drove off with my grandma and my aunt. It was around 9–o'clock pm when my uncle
came to pick me and my two brothers up from my house to bring us to the hospital. In the car,
everyone was silent. not a single word. It was like a midnight sky on a cloudless night, silence.
When we got to the hospital we were the last ones to arrive. My mother, friends and

My Hero, My Grandfather Essay
My Hero, My Grandfather My grandfather was a very loving man, he loved his family more than
anything he had known. The only thing that could compare to his love for his family, was his love
for his country.
In his life he would have to make many sacrifices for his country, and the second would be
supporting his wife and kids. He took on hardships with ease, he always had a certain calmness to
him, this is something I idolize about him, I would like to learn how to act this way. He's my hero
because he was special, not like anyone else I have ever met, he knew he was special, but he never
he never flaunted it. In this essay I will try to paint a picture of my hero, and give examples of why
my grandfather is my hero.
In...show more content...
He met my grandmother when he was twelve years old, and she was nine years old. They would
go to dances, and they would enjoy each others company in the cheapest way they could, because
their money was limited. After two years the they fell in love, and knew they were destined to be
together. They would talk about marriage, and what they wanted to grow up to be, and about
having children, and how many. In 1948, my grandpap enlisted into the US army, because he knew
he was too young and he didn't have enough money to get married. He knew by joining the
military, it would open new doors for him. In order to sign up, he changed his birth certificate. So
he said bye to his girlfriend, my grandmother, and left for basic training.
In 1949, my grandpap was sent to Korea. While in the military, he and my grandmother would
write to each other, to keep their relationship in tact. He would serve three chaos filled years in
Korea. While in Korea, he was wounded in three different places during two different occasions. The
first time he was wounded by a hand–grenade, he was hit in the head, which caused some
impairment in his right eye, and he was also hit in the foot, he spent three months in a hospital
where his toe was amputated. He would tell me that when you were hit "it felt hot at first, but then it
would get cold". I never quite understood this sensation, because I have never experienced it, this is
one of the many things he tried to teach me

My Grandfather : A Short Story
"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. Then, out of nowhere, he started coughing roughly. I waited a few
moments, for his coughs to die down. However, they only got worse. "Grandpa?" I asked, not
quite sure he heard me. "Are you okay?" I said, louder this time. BANG! I heard the sound of a
body dropping, and the line went dead. "GRANDPA!!" I screamed, panic building up in my body.
Both my parents burst through the doors, looking slightly concerned. "Mehak, why are you
screaming?" My mom questioned. My eyes started to get watery, thinking of all the terrible
possibilities, and I got a feeling in my gut that something was wrong. "Grandpa... H–he...w–were
t–talking a–and h–he started c–coughing a–and the l–line w–went d–dead." I stuttered, not knowing
what to think. My dad flew out of the room, probably to contact my grandma about what was
going on. "Don't worry, Mehak, your grandpa is just fine, we'll get in touch with him as soon as
possible though." My mom assured me, standing by the door. "Maybe you should go check on
dad..." I trailed off, just wanting space. Besides my dad, tended to get over–worked on the smallest
of things, and this situation was only 1000 times worse. My

Narrative about My Grandfather Essay
That Special Someone, Grandpa 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. I distinctly remember the weeknights at his house. Sitting upon his lap, walking
down the street, getting pulled in my wagon through a park––these were things I loved doing with
Grandpa. I was not just another person to him: I was the ultimate grandson, and I was special.
"Grandpa was a giant of a man. He stood six...show more content...
He went to work when he was sixteen, and for the next forty years he worked in a coal factory.
Then he worked in a steel mill for another twenty years. He stopped working only because the steel
mill closed and he was too old to find another job. When I was with Grandpa, I could be a child and
yet see things through grown–up eyes. "You see that tree, Bud," he would say. "That tree was here
before those houses. Kundinger 2 God put that tree there, man put the houses. Which is more
beautiful?" If I climbed a tree, he would not say, "Get down." He said, "Climb it right so you
won't fall." "You appreciate what you work for," he used to say. He taught that lesson well. He
never let me win any game, he taught me to win by learning to lose. If he couldn't answer a
question, he was honest about it, but he would also say, "Why don't you find out and let me know
too." He listened to me and he heard my feelings, not just my words. There was a tougher side to
Grandpa, and I suppose this, too, made him unique with poise. He never would let rudeness from
one who knew it was wrong. Young children may be blunt but those are kids. Adults showing rude,
obscene things towards women were not allowed––in his presence. Grandpa is almost ninety–five
and now resides in a nursing home. The leg he fractured forty years ago is too weak to carry his
weight. His eyes are going bad. But to me he's still the big, strong man who used to take his
grandchild in his arms and rock to

My Grandfather Essay
My Grandfather– The Gift of My Life
If I could be like anybody, I would wish to become more like my late grandfather, whose
memories have inspired me to strive for success, like the smell of old, dusty books which reminds
me of his admiration on learning. An avid collector, he had many books, most of which went
unread. He owned books on everything from medicine to Spain, to several sets of encyclopedias.
After he faced health problems, he came less to the library and read fewer books. They became
just part of the scenery, collecting only dust and memories. I have read a few now, after he is
gone, and each time it brings back a hurt like a sore that refuses to heal. But I suppose it is a quest
of sorts, because if can take on his thirst...show more content...
This house had two floors with three bedrooms on the top floor and the storage rooms, where some
of the goats also stayed, on the ground floor. The house was built in the late 1800s before my father
was born, it was my grandfather's skills in organizing family members and his strategic direction, of
delegating the business operation to his several sons, according to their skills and abilities. The
result is a strong group interaction that has created the foundation of our family business, which is
considered one of the most successful family businesses in Yemen. However, I believe it is his
independent endeavor that established his early success in business, as is evident by the roughness
of his hands, a roughness resulting from the labor of his work throughout his life. At the same time,
my father told me he would hold my father's hands, so gently with his rough hands when having a
conversation with my father.
The saddest part of my memories of grandpa was the day my father took me along with him to
visit my dying grandfather, whose eyes seemed to be drifting aimlessly around the room while his
body and face remained numb. I still recall staring at his tanned and wrinkled skin that covered his
forearms and showed his veins in painful detail, and at the way he sometimes used his heel to
scratch at his other leg.
I suppose it is hard not to notice a kid who has his face turned towards you week after week, year
after year. But

My Grandfather Essay
Narrator's grandfather was a black, freed slave who lived in a time where prejudicism was high,
though slavery was abolished. The narrator's grandfather was perceived as a very great man who
did not say much. Though when he laid on his deathbed, he revealed some surprising truth.
Narrator's grandfather told his son, "Son, after I'm gone I want you to keep up the good fight. I
never told you, but our life is a war and I have been a traitor all my born days, a spy in the enemy's
country ever since I gave up my gun back in the Reconstruction." (qtd. Ellison 279). Though this can
have different connotations to it, it can essentially mean that the narrator's grandfather believes he is
a traitor to the black community because he has just kept...show more content...
Ellison 286). Then the character wakes up with his grandfather's laughter in his ear. This relates to
an earlier incident when the narrator was given a scholarship in an envelope. The narrator had
gotten beaten and later received this envelope.The words "Keep This Nigger–Boy Running"
essentially means for the narrator to keep going and the advice the narrator's grandfather gave his
working. If the narrator keeps conforming to the whites, the blacks can get a head in society and
segregation can be limited or even abolished.
In the story "Two Kinds" Mr. Chong is a perfected representation of a flat character. Mr. Chong was
a retired deaf piano player who was teaching Jing–Wei, the protagonist, how to play the piano. Mr.
Chong's character really did not change too much throughout the story. He was a minor but effective
character in the story. Him being deaf played a major in role in the story. Jing–Wei later on
confessed, " I hit the wrong notes because I hadn't practiced enough, I never corrected myself" (Tan
209). Jing–Wei was lazy and did not practice so she just played in the rhythm so she did not get in
trouble. If the Mr. Chong was not deaf, he can correct these mistakes and the Jing–Wei could not be
lazy. Later on in the story Jing–Wei had to perform in front of her mom and her moms friends. She
did horrible in the performance and her mom got very mad at her because she wanted her to be a
prodigy. This caused a lot disupte amongst the both of them which caused the

My Grandfather
As a young man, I was raised by my Grandparents. It was from my Grandfather that I learned how
to be a man. From him, I acquired the value of a great work ethic, the importance of truthfulness,
and of living a life that not only you but, of one that your family could be proud. My Grandfather
would always say something impressing that having a good name would carry me further than
anything else in life. There is an essay in Ideas Across Time: Classic And Contemporary Readings
For Composition, by Igor Webb, in which Socrates makes a statement that reminds me of the words
that I would often hear from my Grandfather. Plato writes, in Socrate's Defense (Apology), after
being sentenced to death, Socrates tells the jury that "nothing can harm a...show more content...
As a young boy, I would often hear the older men tell me that there are "repercussions and
consequences" for everything. While in my wild youth I never really understood this, until faced
with having to. As I matured, I would later discover my internal moral compass, and it would
consistently point me in the direction of the talks with my Grandfather for guidance. Eventually,
through the experiences of life, the hills and the valleys, my determination to apply what I
learned from my youth would have me arrive at a place in my life where my wife and children
refer to me as "a good man." What a humbling honor that is. I am thankful for the life that my
Grandfather lived. While alive, my Grandfather impacted those around him positively. He brought
out the best in others and sought to make a difference wherever he could; I choose to do the same.
It is primarily because of him that I eventually pursued a career in law enforcement. I desired a
vocation that was honorable; one that served and defended others. Law Enforcement allowed me to
walk out in life the values that he instilled in me. He has been gone for more than thirty–five years
now, however to this day, when people speak of him, the first thing they mention is that he was a
good man. It is through the life and death of my Grandfather that I understand what Socrates was
attempting to leave with those who had just condemned him. Each of us makes our mark in life by
how we live it and in how we interact

My GrandfatherвЂ™s House Essay
My grandfather's house is a very special place to be. I lived with my grandfather for many years
when I was little. His house always seemed to have something about it that set it apart from all the
rest. As you walk into the front door of his house you notice a long, slender stairway that led up into
the main hallway of the house. The strong smell of cigarette smoke is quite evident when you reach
this point. Yes, my grandfather did smoke. My grandfather's house was always full of laughter and
many cheers. Our family used to call it the M.A.R.T.A station. There was always someone over his
house visiting whether it was family or friends. My grandfather's door was always open to everyone
no matter what. When my grandfather had company,...show more content...
In the summer time my grandfather and whoever happened to be at the house would sit out on
the sundeck for hours and talk about anything and everything imaginable; he was known as the
neighborhood gossip king. The sundeck was a place for everyone to sit and relax in the warm
sunny breeze. My grandfather was a very spontaneous person, he did what he wanted to at the
drop of a hat and nobody ever stopped him, and would not let a job go until he was fully satisfied
with it. He was always very active in many things like playing sports, gardening, cooking, farming,
etc., but always had time for the ones he loved. Living at my grandfather's house was indeed a lot
of fun because he was so easy going with me, our grandfather played games with us, the more
physical the better. He allowed me to do all the things that I wanted to do and dreamed about. He
was always willing to lend me a hand in anything that I needed. He was a highly giving person to
everyone around him and he never asked for anything in return. He always had an ear to ear smile
that would brighten up anyone's day if it was not going to well. My grandfather had a very deep,
but a fading, kind of scratchy voice that I remember he sung us to sleep when we were little. He
would wait with us until we fell deep asleep and in the morning he would wake us with the smell of
hot freshly cooked breakfast on the table. My grandfather could cook, he

Essay On My Grandfather
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. My
grandpa was born in 1946 and has 5 siblings, with him being the oldest among them. His father
immigrated to Minnesota from Germany a few years before World War 2. My grandpa told me
stories about my great–grandpa fighting for the Americans during the war, and at one point he
captured for several months by the Germans. He said they treated him surprisingly well, with his
release following the collapse of Germany and Soviet occupation of Berlin. After the war, he
returned to his farm in Minnesota where I believe he spent the rest of his life working until his
death. My grandpa and his siblings also spent most of their childhood and teenage years helping on
the farm. When my grandpa turned

My Grandfather : Short Story
The months leading up to the passing of my grandfather is series of events that (although tragic) I
value because I now understand the pieces of life that, rather than having been taught, I learned
through personal experience. An aspect of my life i came to find out is that there is no amount
of time spent on people who have came and left your life that your future self will approve of.
Finally I came to understand that accepting the loss of a loved one without showing your
emotions is easier said than done. Whatever the case here is my memoir and for however oneself
finds these ideas I bid them an easier way than I. It was around the end of 7th grade when my
grandmother (whom of which was previously divorced to my biological grandfather) was driving
me home from school on an ordinary day when she told me the diagnosis of my grandfather who
was in the third stage of pancreatic cancer. I was originally unphased by the news not knowing
what it entailed for the next six months and the rest of my life. It wasn't for about a week after
the news that I was in the car with my dad and brother on the way to visit my grandpa at Denver
General Hospital. I don't remember distinctly but I now look back on this car ride and feel as if it
had an eerie silence that was not to be broken. We arrived at the hospital at I don't even know
what time but it was certainly daytime. I walked in the door and I put on the hand sanitizer in the
lobby that of which has a stench that I will forever associate with the demise of my grandfather.
We walked to the elevator, pressed the button for the cancer ward, and went up just as I would for
weeks to come. Arriving on the cancer ward was peculiar in that although I had no understanding
for what was to come, I felt a chill like it was the one cold day in hell. The entourage and I
approach the desk asking for Tom Degerlia, my grandfather's room, and we meandered towards
the room he was in as we eventually stepped in I finally learned that I had come to see him in a
worse state than I had seen prior to this, yet the best state I would ever see him from then on. I
remember he didn't look distinctly pale but had a sickly rasp to his voice in spite of the fact that he
did not avoid conversation

My Grandfather
The most inspiring person I have in my life is my grandfather, Raing Chhorm. He is a father of 3
beautiful daughters. His wife, which is my grandmother, name is Heang Sok and my grandfather
always put his family first before his wellbeing. This man Is the most prideful human being I
know he never asks others for help. The reasons I'm so inspired by my grandfather is because he's
openminded, courageous, loving. Before my grandfather was a father he was a Cambodian
Buddhist monk. He was very big on helping others and as a job of a monk is to pass the teachings of
buddha, such as reincarnation, to keep a steady mind or even how a person is supposed to be
allowed to have chances to make them self–better. With being a monk, you go into a phase where
you see yourself becoming more and more openminded. Where judgements weren't allowed to
even be thought in your head. He's quick to anyone without even thinking twice on a person's
intentions of trying to rob him or if he was helping an suspicious person. When being openminded
your open to suggestions and new things, such as food, clothing, languages, etc. In the year off
2015, my grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. For some of you who do not know
the function of your pancreas is to convert everything you eat into fuel for body's cells and also
regulates blood sugar. The chances of fighting this cancer is 20% out of 100%. Some people get
lucky and others don't have much luck, but the only thing you can do is to try to

My Grandfather Essay

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My Grandfather Essay