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In loving memory of my grandpa.
(My grandpa passed away: January 16, 200 cool
*I'm sorry it's so long I had a lot to say because I was going through a rough time, a long with my family.*

My grandfather was usually always happy throughout his adult life. He greeted people with a smile on his face and he loved seeing the family. He was married to my grandmother for 25 years. He had a daughter and two sons; his daughter’s name was Sue Helen. His sons’ names were Harold Jr. (Buster) and my dad, George. Buster died before my father was born. Buster wasn’t even a year old, but he was loved very much. My father and Sue Helen were 13 years apart so they weren’t very close because she didn’t really live in the house for long before she went to college. Yet, little did they know, that tragedy was coming.
One day while my father was in high school, he found out that his sister, Sue Helen, had died in a car crash. She was driving with her husband, Benny, in the passenger’s seat with her two children, Amy and Charles, in the back seat. Amy was three and Charles was two. Sue Helen accidently ran a stop sign right after she had started to learn to drive, and the car going in the opposite direction hit her on her side. Amy and Charles left the car unharmed, but Benny was in the hospital in critical condition. Sue Helen died in the accident. She was very close to my father’s mom, Emma, and when Sue Helen died, everyone thought that Sue Helen took a part of Emma with her. A few years later my grandmother died in the hospital of breast cancer. After my grandma passed away my grandpa remarried to my step-grandma, Sue.
In my grandfather’s early years of his life, when he was in his teens, he started to smoke. My grandfather smoked a good part of his life. He lived through the Depression and was one of a family of 12. Most of his family, like some of his brothers and sisters, had died either at a young age, of cancer, or of smoking. My grandpa had one older brother who is still alive who is 94 and smoked when he was younger too; his name is Fred. My grandpa finally decided to stop smoking when one of his brothers died because smoking took his life. Little did anyone know that my grandpa’s smoking would affect his life more as the days went by.
It started a while ago, when my grandpa suffered from the beginnings of emphysema. He had to take dozens of pills a day and had to use an inhaler. The last year of his life seemed to be the worst. He had to have oxygen with him so he could breathe. He was weak, he couldn’t go up and down the stairs in his house, and he could hardly stand up. Then one day he was finally sent back to the hospital. He was in there for eight weeks and my sister and I were sad and scared because we didn’t want to have to see him suffering in the hospital. My dad gave us a choice, we could either go up to see him or we could stay home. He knew that we didn’t want to see my grandpa have to suffer. While my sister and I were talking to my dad and trying to make up our minds, my dad said that my grandpa did really want to see us, but he didn’t want us to come up and see him. When my dad said that, we were confused, then my dad said that my grandpa wanted us to remember him on Thanksgiving, when he was happy, somewhat healthy, and at home. Suddenly the day came.
I got into my dad’s car after school, and when we were about to leave the street, he softly said, “Erica, your grandfather --”
“He did, didn’t he?” I interrupted.
“Your grandpa passed away this morning.” he said. I couldn’t speak--the thought of him dead made me shake. I was mad at myself; I didn’t go up to see him and I didn’t think he knew that I loved him. It was always hard talking on the phone with him, and there would always be a silence before he said that he didn’t want to keep me from doing homework. I wouldn’t be able to tell him I loved him, and whenever my other grandparents were here, I always had thought that I couldn’t live without my Grandpa Click and I never wanted him to die. The feeling was overwhelming and I couldn’t stand it. My dad said that we are going to Tennessee when we get home and my mom had packed for me. He also said that my grandpa had died in his sleep, which was good so he didn’t die suffering, and that he was on the phone with my Grandma Sue that morning when he died. He felt like Grandpa wanted my dad to at least be as close as he could if he couldn’t be there with him before he died. When I got home I ran for my room, I searched to find the picture of my grandpa and grandma Sue. I finally found it, and I bawled on the floor of my room. He was actually gone, and I could never see his smiling face again, only his straight face in his coffin.
We left for Tennessee. It was a four hour drive and then that Saturday was the funeral. As soon as I got to the house, I waited my turn to hug my Grandma Sue. Soon would be the funeral.
The day before the funeral, some of my dad’s friends and family came to the house. It was nice to meet them and learn about adventures people had together. I always just listened and loved to hear about what they had done. The family service was the next morning, and everyone had to go back to their houses so they wouldn’t get home later and so we could get a good night’s rest.
The morning came and everyone dressed in funeral clothes. Then we were off. When we got to the building, we went in a long room. I stopped in the back when I noticed my grandpa’s casket was at the end of the room. I let my Grandma Sue walk up with my dad and her two other sons that were my dad’s step brothers. We slowly walked up and then everyone started to cry. It was hard for me to see him there, still and lifeless. My mind played tricks on me, and it almost looked like he was still breathing, but I knew he wasn’t. I looked at his face, his eyes were closed and he looked like he was dreaming peacefully. Then I looked down at his hands; they were purplish-blue, grey and other colors. I thought it might have been the makeup, but when I asked my dad about his hands, he said that his face had the makeup and his hands didn’t have any. I cried and couldn’t look anymore. When I looked at my Grandma Sue with her eyes puffy and red from crying, I knew that everyone would miss him. Not just me. When the family service was over, we went back to the house and waited until we had to go back to the building for the funeral where everyone came and said good-bye.
When we walked in the larger room, I saw the casket once again. We were there 30 minutes early so we could get set for the friends and family to come. Near the casket on both sides were flowers. The saddest one I saw was from a man that I had met the night before. He had gone fox hunting with my grandpa when they were young adults and were best friends. I looked at the flower for a while, and then I noticed the long ribbon going down across the flowers. It said, “To my best friend.” At the sight of this, tears came to my eyes and I knew I had to keep moving. Many people came to Grandpa’s funeral before we went to the graveyard. On his casket on the inside of the lid it said, “Going home,” with birds around it. I took a picture of about everything there because I never wanted to forget this moment, the last time I would actually be able to see my grandpa. We rode to the graveyard, police escorting us along the way. When we got to the spot where the casket would be set, I couldn’t keep my tears from flowing while they were giving a speech and letting us know that he was going to heaven. As we went back to our cars I saw the head stones, one for where my grandpa’s was going, one for my grandma Emma, and one for Buster. Now I knew that they were re-united after a long time, and they will be forever. I will miss Grandpa until the day I am re united with my family when I get to be old and my time has run out, but I know when the day comes there will only be tears of joy in heaven because now I will be able to see my family again, forever.

leave a comment if you have any suggestions that you would like me to change in what i have written or if you just have a comment.