Personal Narrative Poppy Don and I

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Personal Narrative Poppy Don and I

I am almost completely at a non-bias standpoint when viewing the picture of my grandfather and me. I must rely on pictures and stories to have "memories" of Poppy Don. Since I don't remember much other than the love I felt when I was around him. The feeling I get when I see the picture is the same as the feeling I do actually remember.
At first glance, you see what looks like a little girl and her grandfather smiling for the camera. Then, I see Poppy's basic characteristics. First, I see his smile that is pretty big under his mustache. Then, I see his eyes, which seem to be grinning as well. It is clear that my dad takes after him. I also see my daddy; the dark hair, now graying, that is full and thick, despite my dad's misfortunes. As well as the dark skin that is not only hereditary, but also shows that he works for a living. When I see the picture now I have mixed emotions. I am happy I once knew him and was blessed with four years. But then, sadness because I only had four short years that I can't quite remember. In the picture it seems as if we are physically smiling from head to toe.
From here on I must rely on stories. His personality seems to have been one of the greatest. Honesty and justice seemed to be his greatest assets. His only motivation in the truth being his instinctive good will. His ability to decipher right from wrong wasn't thought out but it was instinctual as well. He suffered from chronic happiness. A smile was always in order when he was around. " My best friend always had a smile, a handshake, a hug, a pat on the back, a word of encouragement, and a word of praise…" as my dad said in his eulogy for his beloved father. Poppy Don was very loving, for lack of a better word. When we lived in Oklahoma a day didn't go by without a visit from him. There are few fathers who tell their sons they love them every time they part. All the great stories and wonderful memories of him would take an eternity to tell.
My relationship with Poppy Don was short but oh so sweet. When I was young, death wasn't conceivable.

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I liked him because he loved me and craved my attention. Every time he came to see me, yes everyday, Poppy brought me a stuffed animal. He wasn't trying to buy my love; he was simply trying to spoil me rotten. Now, I think about him surprisingly often for it to have been so long ago. I can see how much he is missed by the look in my daddy's eyes every time he is mentioned. I wish so much I could have known him better and been a greater part of his life. I'm sure I will never forget the things I have heard and the things I remember. I believe he still watches over me, so in a way, I guess he does know me. He will always live in my heart, as well as, the hearts of many, many others. If only my wishes were enough.
On the bright side Poppy Don will remain forever young in my eyes. I will never be disappointed in him or let down. I will only remember the good because it is all I have been told. Maybe good is all there is to be told of Poppy.



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