New Opportunities for Death | Teen Ink

New Opportunities for Death

October 17, 2013
By Anonymous

The times we had together were great; Christmas parties, Trick-or-Treating at his house, and making snowmen in his front yard. Grampi was special to me. Even though he didn’t hear very well and was sometimes quiet, he was still one of the most important people in my life. He was born on July 23rd, 1922. He was in the Marines for 6 years, and he won a Silver Medal for risking his life to save others’. My Aunt Janet now has the medal since he passed but I have yet to see it. He was always really tan and he was tall. He had the cutest round glasses and short grey hair that wasn’t too grey. He looked like he was 75 not 85 because of his appearance.

On July 14th, 2008, I heard the words I never wanted to hear from anyone. I came home from my private school that day and my mom told my 3 brothers and me to sit down in the living room; my dad was not with us. She had us all sit together because it was something that she wanted us to all hear as a family. She said to us, “Dad went over to Grandma’s house this morning because Grampi had died last night.” The room went silent and I could feel my heart sink when I heard those words. My mind was going in all different directions. How did this happen? Am I in a dream? Is he really gone? I said in a quiet voice, “How did he die?” My voice was shaking and tears were starting to form in my eyes. My mom replied, “His heart just stopped last night and he died in his sleep.” She was not crying when she said those words which were surprising. I never got to hear what my brothers thought but I knew they were sad like everyone else in the family. I ran upstairs, closed the door, shoved my head in my pillow, and started bawling. I said out loud with my voice shaking, “How can this be happening?” I threw my hands up in the air because I had no idea why this was planned to happen this way. My heart was racing and the tears were flowing out of my eyes. A thunderstorm was rolling in as I looked out of the window. Rain starts pouring down in a matter of seconds and I just stop and think. I remember all the good times I shared with Grampi. I will never get to make any more memories with him. Someday, I will see him again. It could be in 60 years, 10 years, or in a few weeks; I will never know.

I knew my Dad would be emotionally torn apart because Grampi was his Dad. When I first saw him after I heard the news, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. I still clearly remember the day Grampi was laid to rest. It was on a Monday, and everyone was emotionally torn. The whole family was at the showing and I can still picture my Grandma bawling her eyes out and all of us comforting her. She held my hand as we stood next to the casket, and the Pastor prayed. Her hand was cold like an iceberg but soft as a baby’s hand. At the service, when the casket was being walked down the aisle of the church, I looked to my left and saw my Dad tearing up. I put my arm around him and whispered, “It’s going to be alright.” He looked down at me and smiled. At his funeral, everyone wore black, and it was a cool summer day. We walked down the dirt road to an open area with a room behind us. Six air force men in full uniform shot their guns to start off the funeral. My dad’s Uncle Kenny, my Uncle Larry, Uncle Steve, and Uncle Wayne were carrying the casket into this room that was outside. Everyone else followed behind them. Two guards outside the doors were in full uniform and they looked like statues. I was 12 years old, so, when I went up to touch them, my mom pulled my hand away and sternly said, “You can’t touch them!” We all got into the room and stood next to the casket. My Grandma sat in a chair beside the casket, and my Dad held her hand. She had both hands around his one hand because she was so heartbroken to lose Grampi. One of the soldiers placed a flag over Grampi’s casket in honor of him serving for our country. That flag reminded me of the flag outside my house that I put up for Fourth of July. Once they placed the flag on top of the casket, I just lost it. I couldn’t help myself but think of how great Grampi was and how I would never get to spend Christmas or New Years or any holiday with him again. He shaped me into a nice, caring person. He was always one of the few people in my life that was happy 95% of the time.

It’s sad how family can be gone in a matter of seconds but I know my family is and will be there for me in those kinds of times. Death is a scary thing, and it can happen at any time. Someone dies about every 3 seconds and one day that will be me. Every time I saw Grampi on a holiday or get together, he would always tell me that I was getting taller and taller by the minute and that I was very pretty. I thought of how I hated getting my picture taken when I was younger but now I love it. My family, friends, and even strangers always tell me I should model. Grampi had a big impact on my decision to start modeling because he was my role model, and he was someone I definitely looked up to for advice. I can see him looking down on me, smiling, and saying, “Never give up.”


The author's comments:
This was a memoir I was writing in ELA class.

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