A memorable event
Having the feeling of losing a loved one is something that everyone eventually experiences. Losing my grandpa in a car accident is by far the most devastating thing I had to learn to cope with. My grandpa and I were really close. We did many things together until the day somebody decided to have a drink while driving behind the wheel. Not only did the drunk driver pay dearly for his senseless act. He also took my grandfather’s life when he collided into the side of his car.
Though my grandfather’s death was five years ago, I still remember him. An image of him is still locked in my mind, but my memories of him are faint. After breakfast on Saturdays, we would play in the park and feed the ducks. I would hold my grandpa’s hand and I remember how his hands felt very much like paper, yet very callused from long years of hard work. When it rained out, he baked me fudge brownies and cookies. My grandpa was always there when I ne
I have many memories of me and my grandpa that I hold very dear, some of which I will never forget. I didn"tmt see much of my father because he was always off somewhere working two jobs while attending college. When I was young, the money wasn"tmt always there but we still lived a decent, comfortable life style. I still had no clue as to why she was crying until we had arrived at the hospital. In what seemed like a matter of minutes, my grandpa was pronounced dead, which to me, seemed unreal at the moment. eded a wound to be tended to or when I was sick and not feeling well. It felt as if my heart was breaking, knowing that I would never see or play with my "best friend" ever again. I miss my grandpa dearly with all my heart, and I wish I could tell him now how much I miss everything we used to do together. Maybe it was best that my grandpa died when I was young. I remember my mom bursting into tears when she answered the phone. I believe what my grandpa says is true because bad things do happen unexpectedly, and when they do, you can"tmt turn around and undo them. On the night of January 12, ten days before my 11th birthday, my parents got a call from the hospital on behalf of my grandpa. My grandpa paid the ultimate price for a crime he didn"tmt commit. My grandpa played the second father-role in a significant part of my life as a young girl. Tears formed behind my eyes as I sat, staring blank at the wall, letting the painful truth of reality sink in.