Essay on My Dad - Original Writing

Essay on My Dad - Original Writing

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I remember it as it were yesterday, the morning of October 31 1986, I heard my dad’s voice early in the morning; “Mike, get up! Your grandpa died!”
It was Friday morning and I was in the 5th grade at the time. My father decided to pull both me and my brother out of school. My mother wasn’t home. She had already gone up to the hospital with my grandmother.
Evidently my grandfather dropped dead from a massive heart attack. In fact he was chopping firewood the day before and seemed perfectly healthy. He woke up around 4am with chest pains. My grandmother called for the ambulance and he walked to it. When he got to the hospital he was dead.
Throughout the morning I didn’t know what to feel. I have seen distant family and friends of my parents die. However this was the first time I ever dealt with the loss of a close family member. I knew what death was and I knew I wasn’t going to see him again. At the same time I didn’t want to believe it. The morning went much like any “normal” morning would be. Slowly the sadness of what happened started to build intensity.
In a strange way it seemed like a happy occasion when all the relatives started to show up at the house. They didn’t really talk about what happened. Many of them were happy to see me, even though I didn’t know who many of them were. I guess they knew I existed but never seen me before. Everyone was laughing and joking about the old times. I was a little confused by that because I was expecting a very sad bunch. In a way it was good for me.
It was a different story at the wake. These same people were wailing the second they caught sight of the casket. It was there the sadness was unbearable and the true gravity of what happened set in. That night I couldn’t sleep. All I coul...


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...l alive. How valuable is our time when we are excruciating pain with a terminal disease. Sometimes people can live on for a couple years in that condition. If we were to ask any of them if they are enjoying life, the answer would be a resounding “No”
Having my perspective on time is the realization that it’s not unlimited. I’ve gotten to the age where some of my classmates from high school are starting to die. I don’t get depressed over it because I’m not close to any of them. It does drive home the fact that I can be next. However, it helps me to live my live the best way I can. I have an elevated view of life. I have a positive view for the future, both immediate and distant. I truly care for the friendships that I have. All I can hope for is whenever my time is up and if I do all these things; I will have no major regrets about anything that happened in my life.

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