I know to take one last breath of fresh, clean air before I open the front screen door and then the faded, chipped white wood door. I walk in, and the blend of the aroma of apples and old people suffocates me. As I walk in, the same two-year old cat food is right where it has been for the last six months: in front of the front door on the cold faded tile floor. The cat disappeared four months ago, but I guess there is still hope that he will come back one day. I 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 line in the back yard, there are four rose bushes that need water. Dead daises and pansies from the previous summer are the main attraction in the front yard along with a five foot high metal windmill stuck in the middle of a flower garden that needs grease. The two car garage houses a huge '78 black Buick. The ol' Buick hasn't been driven in a while, but my Grandpa claims that it is still in top shape. I guess my Grandpa just keeps it around to remind him of my Grandma. Next to it is a green John Deere tractor with a ripped black seat that has a flat left rear tire, but my Grandpa claims, "It still runs like a champ." Next to it is the push lawnmower.
Before I open the door, I can hear the Bronco game being televised on my Grandpa's 36"...
... middle of paper ...
...the same story about so and so and how their daughter's husband's brother did this and that. All this time, I just sit there and watch my Grandpa be happy telling me this story while he slops stuff out of his mouth and onto his already stained clothes. Eventually, we finish our dinner, and I clean up the kitchen.
I get all of my stuff together, make a final check that everything is good to go, and sit on a kitchen chair. My Grandpa asks sadly if it is time to go, and I say, "Yeah," with a quivering voice. So, I get up, give my Grandpa a hug and head out the door.
I hate leaving this place more than anything. I hate leaving my Grandpa in that house by himself. I push open the front door and breathe in the fresh night air. As I pull out of the narrow leaf covered driveway, I look back to see my Grandpa waving at me through the dirty storm glass windows.
Need Writing Help?
Get feedback on grammar, clarity, concision and logic instantly.Check your paper »
- The Old Root Cellar Our summer trips to Colorado seemed to take forever. I was an eager four year old child who couldn't wait to get to my secret place. Every child has a special place: it might be a fort made out of sheets and couple of chairs, or maybe it's an easy chair that serves as a stage coach or a fighter plane. Maybe its a bed that becomes a ship protecting you from sharks. My special place was at my grandparents farm. My childhood was spent on military bases or in suburban neighborhoods.... [tags: Descriptive Essay, Descriptive Writing]
1401 words (4 pages)
- The other night I was sitting by the blazing fire eating a juicy orange, and the sweet smell reminded me of my vacations to Florida over winter break. I will never forget the fresh smell of the air when we stepped off the airplane. I could see my grandparents from across the crowded airport. I would always be so excited to step on the soft, white, sandy beach. The first thing I would do is change into my bathing suit and run out to the beach. My sister and I would spend the day splashing in the salty water, until we were too tired to keep our heads above the water.... [tags: Descriptive Essay Example]
394 words (1.1 pages)
- Grandpa's House As I walk in through the door, I begin to sense the feeling of warmth come over me. This is the feeling I get every time I arrive at my Grandpa's house in Price, Utah. It's where I spent the first five years of my life. This is my second home. My family and I live about four hours away from Price, but that still doesn't stop us from going to visit as often as possible. The drive there is rather boring, but it's worth being able to see the familiar landscape of my past. After driving through a small town known as Wellington, I know that I am within minutes of being able to glance at my second home.... [tags: Observation Essay, Descriptive Essay]
926 words (2.6 pages)
- Summer at the Cabin The cabin was built in the 1950's when my Great Grandpa rode up there, and it looks like not many repairs have been made since that time. The cabin is about 15 feet by 20 feet, and is made out of pine logs. There are places where you can see between the logs because the chinking is falling out. The cabin faces to the east. It has a small porch that was made by leaving the first four logs of the cabin about six feet longer than the rest. There is a small set of corrals in front of the cabin.... [tags: Descriptive Essay About A Place]
821 words (2.3 pages)
- I think we all have a beautiful place in our mind. I have a wonderful place that made me happy a lot of times, years ago. But sometimes I think that I am the only person who likes this place and I'm asking myself if this place will be as beautiful as I thought when I will go back to visit it again. Perhaps I made it beautiful in my mind. This place is meaningful to me because it is part of the county I loved, is part of the county where I grew up and is part of my childhood. This place is in the country in an old region named Appalachia, a small piece of the Appalachian Mountains, in a town named Pikeville.... [tags: Descriptive Essay Example]
696 words (2 pages)
- In my hometown, there is not much to do on any night of the week, so many nights I found myself walking around town with my friends. After walking an hour of so we would often become tired and need a rest. The swing along the Mississippi River was always a great resting spot. The metal swing fits up to four people and has a great view of the Lock and Dam. Although the swing was cold when we first sat down, it would soon warm up and sometimes we would end up staying there for hours just talking.... [tags: Descriptive Essay Examples]
1218 words (3.5 pages)
- It is years later and I can still remember my first visit to Lou's Cafe. Stopping in to see if anyone could tell us where to locate the turn we had missed, my dad and I received a large dose of culture shock. It seemed as if we had opened the door to a place where time stood still. Miss Lou Dixon owns and runs that restaurant in the middle of Small Town, USA. Miss Lou has been in business at that location since 1954. Even though the place looks a little squalid, it is not for lack of care; in fact, Lou is proud of how clean she keeps her place.... [tags: Descriptive Essay Example]
1000 words (2.9 pages)
- For a half hour, every school day, for a few months, I was really happy. A friend and I would go to the drainpipe, and we would sit, talk, eat our lunches, and listen to my walkman. It was the perfect place: It was quiet, beautiful, and it was full of peace. It didn't matter whether it was cold or hot, somehow you didn't feel anything sitting on that drainpipe. You would feel the wind on your face, and it made your face cold, but inside, you felt warm and cozy, and you almost felt like you couldn't be harmed.... [tags: Descriptive Essay Examples]
433 words (1.2 pages)
- 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 service.... [tags: Personal Narrative Profile]
512 words (1.5 pages)
- 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, and hard worker, thus I had many reasons for looking up to him my whole life.... [tags: Personal Narrative Profile]
515 words (1.5 pages)