Personal Narrative- Grandpa Routinely pushing play on the answering machine, as I do every time I get home, I was about to hear the words that would forever change my life. The sorrow and agony in her voice gave away the horrifying news I had been regretfully waiting. My heart sank as I sat and reflected on what had happened. Since I was a little kid, my grandpa, Howard Scheuster, has always been a role model in my life. He was an intelligent man, loyal Christian, prominent family leader
tended to do when he told one of his famous jokes. My eyes scanned the old photographs, searching for myself amidst the images. They came to rest on a photo of Grandpa holding me in his lap when I was probably no more than four years old. The flowers surrounding me once again blended into an array of hues as I let my mind wander…… “Look Grandpa, he’s over there!” A little blond girl rushed over to the window, her curly ponytail bouncing with every step she takes. Her cheeks were a flushed, rosy shade
Grandpa Pat McGill, Jr. of Wisner, Nebraska always entered a room smiling. Pat fathered eleven children, including my mother, and had over fifty grandchildren, including me. Even though my grandpa and I were not all that close, I admired and respected his kind and gentle nature. He passed away in the summer of 1996, and I didn't get to say goodbye to Grandpa Pat McGill before he headed up to heaven with all the other saints. All but one of the McGill grandchildren were at my grandpa's memorial
Personal Narrative- Grandpa and His Canoe Smallville, USA is about thirty minutes from Nowhere, USA. Smallville is a small town for small town people. My grandfather was one of those small town people. He owned a small camp on a small lake near Smallville. Kosoag Lake. From what I remember of the historical facts I gathered from growing up, asking questions, and pretending to listen, Kosoag Lake was earth. The lake was a part of Native American land flooded out for God knows what reason.
Creative Story: Grandpa We were going to Las Vegas for vacation. I was looking foward to having a lot of fun there. When we finally got to Las Vegas,it felt like an oven jacked up all the way. When we got to the room it felt like when you open a refrigerator. Then we went to see all the major attractions, like Cesar's Palace, this was one of my favorites because when you go inside the roof looks like the sky inside of a building. I also took some pictures in front of the hotel near the
Narrative- My Amazing Grandpa I don't have a lot of fantastic memories of childhood. There were no spectacular family adventures, no unique family projects that taught some sort of moral lesson, no out-of-the-ordinary holidays. We ate family meals together, but most of the time the children and adults lived in different worlds. The kids went to school, did homework, and played; the adults worked. I was lucky, though. When I wanted a little of both worlds, I could always turn to Grandpa. I remember
Personal Narrative- Concern for Grandpa No one wanted to answer the phone. An ominous tone accompanied the hollow ring. One-two-three-four. Finally, my mother summoned up the courage to answer the phone before the answering machine picked it up. I have never seen my mother look so pale or frail. Her lips moved but the sound that was supposed to be coming out was nonexistent. My older brother, Caden, and I were stunned into silence. Our eyes spoke volumes of the fear we were experiencing.
Learning From Grandfather My brother and I are playing on the porch steps, and are being watched intently by my grandmother. She gently rocks on the old cream colored swing, which proclaims of its lack of oil with every movement of its chains. The green indoor-outdoor carpeting that covers the steps too shows its age, with concrete poking through the edges. It scratches my legs as I sit and build things with my legos, but I have gotten used to the feeling. Today isn’t too hot, but the cool
My Grandmother Children! The sound of her strident voice reverberates down the narrow stairwell. I remember that musty, dark, winding stairwell that led to her second floor apartment in Glendale as vividly as I did the day I established a meaningful relationship with my grandmother. Through this relationship, I have come to know her as a friend, a confidante, and lastly, a woman I admire. I was only seven at the time, and the only thing I cared about was the fact that my grandmother
Having a Second Father: My Grandpa It has been five years since I have spoken to my father. I was three years old when my parents got a divorce. Both my mom and dad remarried, however my dad didn’t waste any time in doing so. After he was married, I felt that I wasn’t a part of his new life. We had our problems like any relationship between children and parents, but most of the problems resulted from interference from his new wife. We would disagree on many things because of his wife
Grandpa - The Life of a Golfer and Great Man As I got to know my husband's family, I knew golf was the one thing I eventually was going to have to learn. To them golf is more than just a sport, it is a way of life. Every summer they gather on the golf course for at least one round of golf a week and it always made me wonder, what is it about the game that has got them this hooked? Is there something about it I am just not getting? Every holiday, birthday or major occasion, there is always someone
I miss you Grandpa I remember spending summers in Kansas with Grandpa. I grew up in the suburbs - spending summers in Kansas was a bit of culture shock. I remember waking up early and sitting around the kitchen table and listening while Grandpa and my mom sipped coffee and talked. The Hutch paper was always spread across the table, and inevitably, the conversation would turn to me. "He probably fails all his classes, don't he?" Grandpa would ask. A slow smile would
My Grandfather – A Man of Respect Winds scratch his hands and his sharp bones deeply assert their lineaments. He stands like a trembling leaf on the branch of an evergreen, and will not fall. (Emmanuel di Pasquale, "Old Man Timochenko") This stanza from Emmanuel di Pasquale's poem "Old Man Timochenko" portrays my grandfather well. My grandfather is a man of respect because he never gave up on life, not even when his friends and family were burned alive on a train traveling from
through a small town known as Wellington, I know that I am within minutes of being able to glance at my second home. I wait with anxiety as the car makes its way ever closer to the bridge that crosses the river, which runs right by the property of my Grandpa. Ahead I can see the old house and all the rickety, old buildings and corrals surrounding it. The excitement mounts inside as I let myself out of the car and make my way up toward the front porch. As I gently touch the cold, handmade iron railings
long and Dad didn’t say much. When he hung up he was quiet. Then Mom asked, “Who was that, honey?” Blunt and to the point he said, “Grandma,” (his mom) “Grandpa got sick last night.” Suddenly I was not hungry any more. “What’s that mean?” Mom asked, taking the words right out of my mouth. Dad did not really know. All Grandma said was that Grandpa got up in the night, went to the bathroom, and then yelled for help before collapsing. She called 911 and an ambulance came and got him. From the hospital
all. Grandpa E Rucker Blakeslee has ‘tied the knot’ with the young milliner, Miss Love Simpson. With it being only three weeks after the death of his last wife, the family and town alike are shocked. Confused but curious about it all, Will observes what it means to be husband and wife and what it really means to love. Puzzled by the secrets shared between the two, he tries to figure out just why Grandpa Blakeslee asked Miss Love for her hand in marriage and why she even agreed. While Grandpa Blakeslee
approach the sliding wooden door to enter the front living room and see some bird feed on the floor that must have been spilled the previous week along with a stack of news papers. This single story brick house was purchased by my Grandma and Grandpa twenty years ago. Ever since, the house has been filled with nothing but love and laughter. Behind the house, there are five or six tall, skinny trees that have died from disease but haven't fallen to the grass covered ground. Near the loose clothes
My Grandfather’s Love As we neared the house I could see the front yard emerge amidst the hurricane-twisted pines that stood like sentinels guarding a castle. Pulling into the yard, I noticed that the grass looked like one of my great-grandmother's patchwork quilts. Old, but new in a way, shaded with varying hues of greens and browns seeming to be sewn together with sporadically mounted ant hills adjacent to a wondering dog's paw prints. We pulled into the driveway slowly as not to disturb
Grandparent's education have been extremely different. My education has seemed to evolve around everything electronic; most of it has came from books and computers. My Grandpa said most of his education came from work. Grandpa graduated from high school in 1957. My Grandma did not graduate, but she received her G.E.D. in 1982. Grandpa said there wasn't much too his high school education. He said there wasn't anything electronic in the school at that time, calculators or computers. Unlike now, the
over a 100 years old! I really don't believe it is haunted or anything, but I have definitely heard sounds in the night, some louder and scarier than other nights. My dad used to tease me that it was my Grandpa's ghost coming back for visits. My grandpa died in January of 2001. I don't believe in ghosts, but just my dad's suggestion of Grandpa's soul coming back made me feel uneasy. One particular night still haunts me and is one that I really wish I could forget. I went to bed that night up at