“Grandpa Jack left this for you”.
I slowly ripped back the brown packing tape sealing the box. I reached inside the box and pulled out the first object I touched. It was his pocket knife. His lucky pocket knife. No note. No sentimental letter informing me of his grand-parental love for me. Just a pocket knife and packing peanuts. I sat in the corner running my finger across the synthetic shiny wood, the somber air crashed around me, people were crying, but I just sat in that corner with the biggest smile on my face.
My grandpa died of cancer. He never said anything about what type of cancer he had. He just said he had cancer. The last time I saw my Grandpa Jack he informed my family that his cancer was in recession. He was lying, and everyone at the table knew it. He told me before I left that he made a deal with the devil and he would live to be 90. He had a tear in his eye. We both knew this would be the last time we ever embraced each other. He wasn’t ready to die, I wasn’t ready for him to die.
Two months later we got a call from the hospital, they told us my grandpa broke out, his two eighty year old sisters snuck him out of the hospital. Grandpa Jack told the hospital, he wanted to spend his last few months at his house. My mom decided to drive to Chicago with her brothers to see him one last time. My mom called me when she got to Chicago, the cancer spread to grandpa’s legs, it spread to his body, he couldn’t stand, and that he was going to die soon. my m...
... middle of paper ...
...e with him. From the first time I met him, to the last time I saw him. His remains were clutched tightly in my left hand. My grandpa 's old poems went through my head. One stood out in particular.
I will arise and leave you
I will find a place somewhere
It will be a place of tranquility
and I will wait for you there
we will sit together side by side breaking my long game of solitaire
Because one day we will be graced by each others loving care
I loved him. I love him as a friend. I loved him as family. I have accepted his death, and he has left this world. People always say that when you die you go to a “better place”, whatever this place is maybe someday I can see him. at that moment on the rock with the sun shining in my face I accepted my grandpa’s death. He won’t come back, but he will live on through the memories I have of him. I threw his ashes into the air.
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