Narrative-My Great Grandfather

            I had set the rose on his casket and turned away sobbing. I just could not believe he was gone. I felt like there was no one who could understand what I had felt.  He was there and gone in very little time.  My great grandfather was the best man alive.  We may not have been super close when I was little, but as I grew up we grew closer and closer. No one is perfect but he was to me.
My grandpa and I shared so many things. He loved to sing as do I.  He also loved to play piano and so did I. He also played guitar which inspired me to start playing guitar. The most important thing we shared was the day we were born. January 16th, our special day. We had so many fun times over the few years we got to know each other. He used to play piano just so that I would sing along. He loved to hear me sing. He always had a huge smile on his face when we would sing together. I’m so very glad that God gave me a chance to get to know my great grandpa before he passed away.
            On our special day, I would always call to wish him a Happy Birthday. Usually within that week we would all go out to eat to celebrate our birthday. I remember the first time we took him to eat at Olive Garden. He was so excited because he didn’t get out very much. He always read good reviews and heard people say good things about it. He was happy because he drank some wine with his dinner. We all had a great night because he was in such a good mood.  I always loved that whenever he would see me he would say, “There’s my birthday girl.”
            My grandpa would always tell whoever was at their house stories of when he was in the army. He served during World War II, against the Japanese. You could tell he didn’t have a great memory as he got older because he would tell the same stories over and over again. You could see he was as happy as can be and that’s all that mattered to us. He would always tell at least one story every time I came over whether I have heard it or not.
            You could tell that he was starting to get older mentally and physically. He started to get weak to where he had trouble walking and get up from chairs. He would ask repetitive question, even though you told him multiple times or he would tell you the same thing over and over again. Slowly stated getting more and more sick. I didn’t get to see as often as I would have liked. My grandma would send me updates on his condition ever so often.
            One week in October my grandma called and you could tell some was wrong, you could hear it in her voice. She said, “Caitlyn, I know your great grandpa would like to see you soon. The doctors said it could be a couple months, a couple weeks, or maybe even a couple days.” I quickly said okay, then hung up and broke down.
            About two days later I went to his house and he looked really sick.  He sat in his favorite chair while we asked him questions. He was hard of hearing, so we would often have to yell whatever we were saying. He wanted to play hi guitar and listen to me sing. Holding back my tears we sang together one last time. I took a photo of us, which I still keep to this day. He got tired so we left. A few days later I got a phone call that he passed away in his sleep. I cried for days.
            There we were at the funeral. It took me awhile to even go up to see him. I gazed at him lying there, he looked so peaceful. Crying, I took his hand, and whispered, “I’ll miss you.” And kissed his cheek. As I walked away I started to remember all the good memories we had.
             At the burial site I sat there weeping. I watched as the men shot off the 21 gun salute. I took one of the shells in memory of him. As it was time to leave I stood beside his casket, I had set the rose on his casket and turned away sobbing.



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