Grandfather Essay

The Life Of My Grandfather
For all the people I have met in my life, my grandfather is one person who has shared his lessons in
life, his knowledge and wisdom, and his experiences that he has gone through with me the best out
of all the people. Learning from others can give a better understanding of that person and their
experiences. Knowing their lessons can teach you to do better or to know what to do when your the
one in that situation.
It seems to me that my grandfather's lessons, are the ones I have learned in life and have taught me
valuable information. For example, my grandfather would tell me lessons about his relationships
with friends and important things in life. What I mean by this is that my grandfather would teach
me about kindness and generosity, this would help me in my relationships with friends and
relatives. In addition, this lesson would help me solve issues with my cousins, such as equal
treatment and kindness among ourselves. Additionally, my grandfather learned some of his lessons
from his parents, such as hard work . This is because lessons can be passed down to teach the next
generation about a trait or skill. Furthermore, my grandfather has taught me the lessons he has
learned from his father, such as hard work. As you can see my grandfather has taught me lessons to
deal with others and lessons he has learned from his parents.
There is no doubt that the wisdom and knowledge are important things that my grandfather has and
he uses his wisdom and knowledge by sharing it
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My Grandfather Essay
Narrator's grandfather was a black, freed slave who lived in a time where prejudicism was high,
though slavery was abolished. The narrator's grandfather was perceived as a very great man who
did not say much. Though when he laid on his deathbed, he revealed some surprising truth.
Narrator's grandfather told his son, "Son, after I'm gone I want you to keep up the good fight. I
never told you, but our life is a war and I have been a traitor all my born days, a spy in the enemy's
country ever since I gave up my gun back in the Reconstruction." (qtd. Ellison 279). Though this can
have different connotations to it, it can essentially mean that the narrator's grandfather believes he is
a traitor to the black community because he has just kept...show more content...
Ellison 286). Then the character wakes up with his grandfather's laughter in his ear. This relates to
an earlier incident when the narrator was given a scholarship in an envelope. The narrator had
gotten beaten and later received this envelope.The words "Keep This Nigger–Boy Running"
essentially means for the narrator to keep going and the advice the narrator's grandfather gave his
working. If the narrator keeps conforming to the whites, the blacks can get a head in society and
segregation can be limited or even abolished.
In the story "Two Kinds" Mr. Chong is a perfected representation of a flat character. Mr. Chong was
a retired deaf piano player who was teaching Jing–Wei, the protagonist, how to play the piano. Mr.
Chong's character really did not change too much throughout the story. He was a minor but effective
character in the story. Him being deaf played a major in role in the story. Jing–Wei later on
confessed, " I hit the wrong notes because I hadn't practiced enough, I never corrected myself" (Tan
209). Jing–Wei was lazy and did not practice so she just played in the rhythm so she did not get in
trouble. If the Mr. Chong was not deaf, he can correct these mistakes and the Jing–Wei could not be
lazy. Later on in the story Jing–Wei had to perform in front of her mom and her moms friends. She
did horrible in the performance and her mom got very mad at her because she wanted her to be a
prodigy. This caused a lot disupte amongst the both of them which caused the

My Hero, My Grandfather Essay
My Hero, My Grandfather My grandfather was a very loving man, he loved his family more than
anything he had known. The only thing that could compare to his love for his family, was his love
for his country.
In his life he would have to make many sacrifices for his country, and the second would be
supporting his wife and kids. He took on hardships with ease, he always had a certain calmness to
him, this is something I idolize about him, I would like to learn how to act this way. He's my hero
because he was special, not like anyone else I have ever met, he knew he was special, but he never
he never flaunted it. In this essay I will try to paint a picture of my hero, and give examples of why
my grandfather is my hero.
In...show more content...
He met my grandmother when he was twelve years old, and she was nine years old. They would
go to dances, and they would enjoy each others company in the cheapest way they could, because
their money was limited. After two years the they fell in love, and knew they were destined to be
together. They would talk about marriage, and what they wanted to grow up to be, and about
having children, and how many. In 1948, my grandpap enlisted into the US army, because he knew
he was too young and he didn't have enough money to get married. He knew by joining the
military, it would open new doors for him. In order to sign up, he changed his birth certificate. So
he said bye to his girlfriend, my grandmother, and left for basic training.
In 1949, my grandpap was sent to Korea. While in the military, he and my grandmother would
write to each other, to keep their relationship in tact. He would serve three chaos filled years in
Korea. While in Korea, he was wounded in three different places during two different occasions. The
first time he was wounded by a hand–grenade, he was hit in the head, which caused some
impairment in his right eye, and he was also hit in the foot, he spent three months in a hospital
where his toe was amputated. He would tell me that when you were hit "it felt hot at first, but then it
would get cold". I never quite understood this sensation, because I have never experienced it, this is
one of the many things he tried to teach me

Childhood Memories of Grandfather Essay
It was a month after my fifteenth birthday when he died. I flew back to South Carolina on an
express flight. It was Thanksgiving time, and the planes were packed. I sat uncomfortably in the
back of the plane, feeling like a foreigner dressed in my black garb. My grandfather's death was
not a shock. I had known he was dying of cancer for almost two years now, but when my
grandmother called us and told us he was very close to the end, I still refused to believe it. I had
seen him only a year ago on his eightieth birthday. He sat at the head of a large banquet table,
laughing with his old war buddies and telling tales of their feats at Normandy. He commanded the
room's attention just with the power of his voice. On that trip we had all...show more content...
In the hallway the lighting was bright, the floor covered in mute gray carpet and the walls softly
painted in pink tones. It seemed too modern. The colors worked too hard to be inoffensive among
the rooms filled with coffins and people dressed in black. The walls and floors tried to be just
background, but they glared.
I stayed very close to my father as we entered the room full of mourners. There were so many faces:
some wrinkled and old, others puffy and fat with red eyes. I did not cry. People came up to me and
expressed their condolences. "Your grandfather was such an excellent gentleman," they would drawl
with glassy eyes. I felt wrong for being his granddaughter and not being touched by their emotions. I
could not cry. My mother hugged me tightly. "I am so glad you're here," her lips trembled.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see the viewing room. A sliding wooden door was half–way open
and I could see the edges of the coffin. A horrible mixture of curiosity and loathing swelled up
inside of my chest. My hands shook as I walked slowly into the room. The American flag hung
over the coffin and a floral arrangement covered one wall. I thought it looked gaudy. The
mahogany wood coffin was shined and sanded to near perfection. It gave the entire proceedings an
almost surreal effect. Half of the cover was taken off and the insides were lined with puffy white
silk. Everything was tidy, pristine, and

My Experience With My Grandfather
My Grandfather's Lessons I remember when I was young, I loved fishing with my Grandfather
because he was an amazing man who always cared for his family. It was one of the most exciting
things I did as a kid because I felt like I was bonding with my grandfather. He was always fun to be
around when he made jokes, played around, and taught me life lessons. Reeling in fishes was an
accomplishment for me and my grandfather even if it was just one, we found it as if we did
something great together. I remember sitting in the boat with him one Saturday morning as we
were waiting to catch a fish. The weather was chilly 55 degrees as I recall. He was wearing his
same old fishing gear [black rain boots with old 49ers hat and a white tee shirt with dark blue
pants]. The sun was barely rising and I felt amazing, the scenery was beautiful I could see the
orange/redness light of the sun rising. The boat was an old boat, but I could tell because of the
green fading away on both sides, wasn't to big ether just enough to fit 3 adults and the motor
looked as if it was worn out. When I was there I didn't understand why the fishes weren't biting, I
was contemplating if the worms were good. As the time passed me and my grandfather didn't say
much, I felt odd by it because we usually spoke, but this time I could feel it was different. I could
not understand why he was so quiet, and as I was about to speak my grandfather told me" Bryan as
you get older there's morals you must stick with", I

My Grandfather Essay
My Grandfather– The Gift of My Life
If I could be like anybody, I would wish to become more like my late grandfather, whose
memories have inspired me to strive for success, like the smell of old, dusty books which reminds
me of his admiration on learning. An avid collector, he had many books, most of which went
unread. He owned books on everything from medicine to Spain, to several sets of encyclopedias.
After he faced health problems, he came less to the library and read fewer books. They became
just part of the scenery, collecting only dust and memories. I have read a few now, after he is
gone, and each time it brings back a hurt like a sore that refuses to heal. But I suppose it is a quest
of sorts, because if can take on his thirst...show more content...
This house had two floors with three bedrooms on the top floor and the storage rooms, where some
of the goats also stayed, on the ground floor. The house was built in the late 1800s before my father
was born, it was my grandfather's skills in organizing family members and his strategic direction, of
delegating the business operation to his several sons, according to their skills and abilities. The
result is a strong group interaction that has created the foundation of our family business, which is
considered one of the most successful family businesses in Yemen. However, I believe it is his
independent endeavor that established his early success in business, as is evident by the roughness
of his hands, a roughness resulting from the labor of his work throughout his life. At the same time,
my father told me he would hold my father's hands, so gently with his rough hands when having a
conversation with my father.
The saddest part of my memories of grandpa was the day my father took me along with him to
visit my dying grandfather, whose eyes seemed to be drifting aimlessly around the room while his
body and face remained numb. I still recall staring at his tanned and wrinkled skin that covered his
forearms and showed his veins in painful detail, and at the way he sometimes used his heel to
scratch at his other leg.
I suppose it is hard not to notice a kid who has his face turned towards you week after week, year
after year. But

My Grandfather : A Short Story
"I can't believe that's true!" I exclaimed, my laughter echoing through the room. My grandpa and I
had been chatting on the phone for the past half an hour. You would imagine a man his age would
be boring and dull. However, he was quite the joker. At least with me, since I was, of course, his
favorite granddaughter. Then, out of nowhere, he started coughing roughly. I waited a few
moments, for his coughs to die down. However, they only got worse. "Grandpa?" I asked, not
quite sure he heard me. "Are you okay?" I said, louder this time. BANG! I heard the sound of a
body dropping, and the line went dead. "GRANDPA!!" I screamed, panic building up in my body.
Both my parents burst through the doors, looking slightly concerned. "Mehak, why are you
screaming?" My mom questioned. My eyes started to get watery, thinking of all the terrible
possibilities, and I got a feeling in my gut that something was wrong. "Grandpa... H–he...w–were
t–talking a–and h–he started c–coughing a–and the l–line w–went d–dead." I stuttered, not knowing
what to think. My dad flew out of the room, probably to contact my grandma about what was
going on. "Don't worry, Mehak, your grandpa is just fine, we'll get in touch with him as soon as
possible though." My mom assured me, standing by the door. "Maybe you should go check on
dad..." I trailed off, just wanting space. Besides my dad, tended to get over–worked on the smallest
of things, and this situation was only 1000 times worse. My

The Grandfather Paradox:
This essay will argue that the Grandfather Paradox makes it unlikely that time travel will ever be
attainable. The premises of this argument are:
If time travel to the past was possible you could kill your grandfather (before he conceived children)
It is impossible for you to kill your grandfather before he conceived children (Because you wouldn't
exist to try and do so)
Therefore time travel to the past is unlikely to ever be possible. 1
This argument refers to the contradictions that arise from the act of changing the past. For example:
Your grandfather conceived children, this event has already occurred and caused your existence,
therefore it is impossible for you to kill him before he conceived children...show more content...
It specifically addresses part 1b. This is a well documented principle developed by a Russian
Physicist named Igor Dmitriyevich Novikov. The theory is that anything a time traveler does,
has already become part of history, the time traveler is meant to travel to the past. This argument
relies heavily on the theory of Closed Timelike Curves (CTC). which were envisaged by Willem
Jacob van Stockum in 1937, and developed by Mathematician Kurt Godel (1949). In a CTC the
wordline (the history of the timeline, past and present) of an object or person describes a curved,
looping path. The loop curves back on itself and arrives back at the present in the same place. "In
other words, a closed timelike curve is the mathematical result of physics equations that allows for
time travel."2
This theory allows for the possibility of traveling to the past and changing some, but not all,
events. A key factor in the theory of CTC's is the idea that following the curve doesn't change
anything, it loops back on itself and becomes the original timeline, so the changes that occurred in
the past have always been that way. Only self consistent events can occur. For example: John
wants to kill his younger self three years in the past. He travels to the past, meets his earlier self,
and shoots. But instead of of killing his younger self he shoots himself in the shoulder. This is the
way things have always been, Jack has had a

Descriptive Essay About Grandfather
There have been countless influential people in my life that I've come across. One who was a
meticulous inspiration continues to be my grandfather. My grandmother had remarried to the
one I call "grandpa" when I was at the age of five, and they both took to each other's grandchildren
as their own. With my mother and me only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out
in the country, I'd spent heaps amount of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a
father but my grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and willingly
played the personification of a father figure. With white whiskers on his face, even after his
morning shave, and the noticeable balding, my grandfather always looked comparable to a gruff
man. You could tell he was strong and had a lot of pride by the way he carried himself. Being more
of a cowboy type, he dutifully wore a plaid button–up shirt, bootlegged jeans, and country–style
boots to match on the average day. He was a diligent man, and although his job kept him away from
the home most of the weekdays driving semi–truck across the country, living on the farm he seemed
to constantly be keeping himself busy doing something with his time off from feeding the horses,
tending to the garden, riding four–wheeler, finding odd jobs here and there, and regularly playing
with all of us kids. One summer my grandfather had been given the job to drive a semi–truck to
New Mexico that would be roughly a week and a half long

Descriptive Essay About My Grandfather
(My Grandfather) I remember two striking images from the afternoon I left Michigan at age five.
The first is an image of my grandfather crying as I left my grandparents' house in my parent's car,
with the sun setting in the distance. Second is a little glass bottle that my grandfather gave me
that day, filled with some dirt off the street and a little note inside, with "never forget your
homeland" etched onto the glass in faded calligraphy. To this day, I still keep that little glass
bottle in a drawer next to my bed. My grandfather was like a loving parent, a teacher, and a unique
role model who I look up to even today, after his death. During my years in Detroit, a city in
Michigan, one of my fondest memories of my grandfather was taking me to ride the bus, taking a
different route every day. We would always walk to the main bus station around the corner,
choose a random red and white bus to get on, and ride to the end of the line and back. At every
stop on the way, he would explain to me where the place was and its significance. Occasionally,
we would pay a visit to some of the more important stops, such as the city zoo, and "explore" the
area as if we were on an adventure. By the time I was four, I came to know most of the city well.
The routine bus rides my grandfather took me for every day had indirectly influenced my keen
sense of direction and deep interest in geography. As a child, I had always been interested in
geography, from constantly picking up the globe to memorize countries to acquiring my own
collection of maps of various cities. And until one day recently, I didn't know what had sparked
my interest; I made the connection that the mentality of going out of the house every day for
ample periods of time and exploring different parts of the city had developed my innate curiosity
to learn and explore. When I traveled back to Michigan a few summers ago, I decided to explore
my grandparents' apartment after losing a fight with jet lag one night. As I walked into my
grandfather's study room, I stumbled upon about fifteen small, peculiar looking notebooks.
Curiously, I flipped through one and saw that it was packed with poems written in my grandfather's
cursive calligraphy. I opened notebook after

Personal Narrative Essay About Grandpa
When I was six years old, my grandpa left my life so suddenly that it didn't feel real. My grandpa
was the only father figure I had at that time since my father was still in the Philippines. When he
left me I felt alone. I didn't understand at that time, but my grandpa was the most impactful person
in my life. I never got to tell him the one thing I should have told him. The morning was cold on
that Thursday, you could feel the September breeze inside my room. As I arose from my bed, my
mother came barging into my room and screams at me to wake up. This was a daily thing, so I
was used to it. As I got out of bed, I hurried and changed into my school clothes for the day. Then I
ran straight to my grandpa's room where he was watching...show more content...
As I turned into my driveway, I saw I big red vehicle that had the words "Medic One." I didn't
know what that meant, or who that car was for. The only thing I knew was that it was bad. Was it
for my grandpa, grandma, or someone else in the family. I rushed into the house so fast, I almost
tripped on the stairs to the front door of my house. My heart sank when I saw who was on the
stretcher, it was my grandpa. I shiver went down my spine. What happened to him and if he was
going to be okay. All I knew was that he was going to the hospital. I spotted my aunt, and grandma
talking to the paramedics. But, my brother came and got me, so I wouldn't see a thing. It was too
late for that. No one told me anything, I was kept in the dark and it was frustrating. The one
person I cared about was hurt and I couldn't do anything about it. I knew what was going on for
the most part, but no one would tell me the truth or give me answers. They kept me in the dark. I
looked at my window, and caught a glimpse of the paramedics loading my grandpa into the
ambulance and drove off with my grandma and my aunt. It was around 9–o'clock pm when my uncle
came to pick me and my two brothers up from my house to bring us to the hospital. In the car,
everyone was silent. not a single word. It was like a midnight sky on a cloudless night, silence.
When we got to the hospital we were the last ones to arrive. My mother, friends and

"[Gary Soto's] power comes from showing, from painting pictures that allow the reader to feel the
wonder promise, and pain of everyday life" (Fabiano185). Gary Soto's writing goes right to the
center of the Chicano experience (Dunn 284). In "The Grandfather", Gary Soto presents the feeling
of what everyday life would be like when living in a Hispanic community. Soto is able to do this
with a naturalistic writing style, writing in a simple style, and using his real life experiences as a
basis.
Naturalism is a writing style in which the writer takes a slice of life and makes it last forever. In "The
Grandfather" Soto uses a naturalistic style of writing. In his writing Soto contemplates over
everyday life such as marriage, parenthood,...show more content...
In "The Grandfather", Soto uses simple vocabulary. This can be seen in the vocabulary that
grandfather uses when scolding the children. Grandfather says, "Hijo (Son), what's the matta with
you? You gonna break it." (Soto 7). The simple vocabulary that Soto uses for Grandfather's dialogue
is typical to that of many immigrants in the 1980's. By using this simple vocabulary Soto is able to
express a bit of the Chicano culture. Soto's works are not unintellectual, just simple, like the events
he writes about. Grandfather's growing tree is not a major event in history, but with his simple style
of writing, Soto better describes the Mexican culture.
Soto uses his life experiences to help him write his short stories. Soto takes his culture and puts it
into words. "The Grandfather" includes autobiographical information about Soto's life. Soto really
did grow up in Fresno, California, and his grandfather actually did work at Sun Maid Raisins.
Because most of the event he writes about really happened, it makes his writing more realistic.
Soto writes about small but telling moments in his life (Fields 284). To some a tree may not mean
much, but in the Mexican culture family is very important and since the avocado tree was
Grandfather's favorite tree it would be important to the rest of the family. Soto probably associates
they avocado tree with his loved grandfather, which is why he

Character Analysis: Grandfather
For this essay the character I will be using is Grandfather. The one moment that I think that
Grandfather responded best when faced with adversity was when his heart started to act up and
Mattie was unconscious with the fever. I choose this moment because even though he was very
sick, and could barely walk, he decided to walk through an entire city to get her to safety, because
she might of died if he didn't, or he might of caught the fever himself if he has stayed where there
were so many mosquitoes, and so little portions of food and water "Fruit? I spun around, wide
awake and hungry, above me hung gnarled branches heavy with green speckled pears. I grabbed
one and bit into it, ignoring the juice that ran down my fingers and chin. I gathered as many pears
as I could carry and set off with new energy to find Grandfather. With food, we could hold out for
days" (Anderson 94), "Then, blackness" (Anderson 95)....show more content...
When Grandfather and Mattie returned to the coffeehouse they ween that it was broken into, and
lots of food was stolen, but they still decided to stay there. The next day when Mattie woke up
people we're in her house stealing what wasn't already stolen, when the burglars found Mattie, she
screamed which woke up Grandfather, and he grabbed his shotgun "'No, Grandfather," I pleaded.
'Put the gun down" (Anderson 145), which led to Grandfather's

7 years ago, my grandpa was alive and well, but 3 weeks went by and my mother explained to me
that he had cancer. We went over to my grandpa's house to see him there he was sitting in the
chair with a surgical mask this is when I realized he was sick. My mother was sobbing every
night almost as if he had died I walked in there and I asked, 'are you okay?' She responded with
yes, go to bed its getting late. Another few weeks went by and in this time, went to visit a few
times my cousins, aunts, uncles, were all there. This was the last time I spoke to my grandfather,
later that night my mom was crying extra hard and I was wondering what was wrong at the time I
couldn't think of what was wrong with my mom. This is when my dad told me that he had passed
away I remember him saying that we need to love my mom and show that we care about her. My
mom soon left to my grandmother's house, she went over there to comfort my grandma for her loss.
The next day my whole family went out to dinner we talked about how he's in a better place now.
My father wasn't emotional until reality set in and a single tear ran down his face. That was the
one and only time I saw my dad cry om the way back I started crying my sister tried to hug me and
I wouldn't let her. Exactly a month after that we had the viewing I was sitting laughing playing with
the toys I had brought till this random guy came up to me and said, ' my hat fell under the bleachers

Essay On My Grandfather
I think the person who has had the most profound effect on my life besides my parents is my
grandfather. I never realized before how much of an effect he had on my interests and goals for the
future. Years ago, he used to tell me stories about historical events and experiences he had fighting
in Vietnam and my great grandfather fighting in World War 2. His vivid descriptions always made it
so interesting and, in some cases, more light–hearted than what actually happened. To this day he
still has more stories to tell me, and never fails to captivate my interest. In doing this, he opened
my eyes to my biggest interest, history, and encouraged me to pursue this interest throughout
school. I feel like it would help to give a short summary of his life and how it affected me. My
grandpa was born in 1946 and has 5 siblings, with him being the oldest among them. His father
immigrated to Minnesota from Germany a few years before World War 2. My grandpa told me
stories about my great–grandpa fighting for the Americans during the war, and at one point he
captured for several months by the Germans. He said they treated him surprisingly well, with his
release following the collapse of Germany and Soviet occupation of Berlin. After the war, he
returned to his farm in Minnesota where I believe he spent the rest of his life working until his
death. My grandpa and his siblings also spent most of their childhood and teenage years helping on
the farm. When my grandpa turned

My Grandfather My grandfather is one of the most important person, who is in my life. He
seemed to be a hero when I was a child. He protected me when I was in danger, and he taught me a
lot everyday. I couldn't even imagine my childhood without him. He was not only my
grandfather, but also he was my spiritual pillar. Therefore, I appreciated him to provide me a
wonderful childhood. Even though, I lived with him until I went abroad, I still remember my
grandfather, and I missed him very much. My parents were busy in business when I was a child.
They worked hard everyday, and they usually had to have a business trip for weeks. Even though
they work at home, it was common for me to see my parents working until midnight. Also,
personally, I seldom could see them at home: They leave home to work before I waked up, and
they came back late when I fell asleep. They didn't have time to take care me or play with me
when I was a child. I complained about that a lot in the beginning. However, after I grew up, I knew
they worked hard for making money in order to improve our family's living conditions. Therefore, I
understood them, and I never disturbed them when they were busy if that was unnecessary.
My grandfather became the role, who growed up with me. In my mind, he was omnipotent for me.
When I had troubles or problems, he always could help me figure them out. He was a soldier when
he was young. He looked elder because he experienced wars. Fortunately, he was safe and became a

Personal Narrative Essay
As he sat in his big round emerald green chair, the aroma of Old Spice filled my nose with every
step I took towards him. As my grandma cooked in the kitchen, my grandpa and I would watch
various Spanish channels on the television. Because my grandpa and I were the only ones who could
understand Spanish, neither my grandma nor the rest of my family never joined us. As we sat in
front of the television by grandpa begins giggling as he says in Spanish, "Maw maw's new haircut
makes her look like a crazy lady." His sense of humor was even funnier because my grandma sat
clueless at his joke. We laughed so hard my sides started to hurt, but his laugh was so contagious
I couldn't stop. My grandfather and I had a special relationship no one else in our family could
match. As a young boy growing up in a family of nine children in Ecuador life was not easy. He
was considered middle class, but this was still not enough to live comfortable. However, my
grandfather knew the struggle was not permanent for him. He knew he was destined for more and
was confident he would amount to something great. This confidence really inspired me throughout
my life. At the age of twenty he decided to come to the US.
The United States instantaneously intimidated my grandfather. He was one of the youngest in his
family to come to Louisiana. Therefore, he immediately went to UNO, he was surrounded by
people who spoke no Spanish. My grandfather was forced to teach himself English and do well in
school

My Grandfather And My Grandmother Essay
My American roots are made up of my families traditions and history. I interviewed two family
members, my grandfather and my grandmother. Each one brings a different background which made
them the best option. American roots are a built by families. Each family has its own traditions and
ideals. For my grandparents, their American roots were built completely different from each other.
Family has a major impact on an individual 's life, it is the starting point of ones American roots.
My American roots are the result of my family. Where do your American roots come from? I
chose to interview both my grandfather and grandmother because they were raised in two very
different environments. My grandfather was born and raised in Fairbury, Illinois. His father was
a farmer and owned a very large chicken farm. My grandfather had two brothers and two sisters.
He was the youngest out of them all. Being raised in a farm is not something everyone can relate
to. Farms in American are very symbolic because they represent hard work, dedication, patients,
and history. My grandfather was to work on the farm when he was not busy with school work.
His family was big on education because they saw it as a necessary tool to have in life. When my
grandfather wasn't farming, he was studying. My grandfather was very athletic as well. He played
football, basketball, and baseball in high school. Sports can be seen to some as a contributing factor
to "American roots" because sports have played a big

Descriptive Essay About Grandfather
My Grandfather There have been many inspirational people in my life that I've come across. One
who was a particular inspiration was my grandfather. He married my grandmother when I was at
the age of five and had accepted all of her grandchildren from her previous marriage as his own
grandchildren. With my mother and I only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out
in the country, I'd spent a lot of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a father but my
grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and played the role of a
father figure. My grandfather had been a gruff looking man. You could tell he was strong and had
a lot of pride by the way he carried himself. He had white whiskers on his face, that he shaved every
morning and the signs of early balding. He was the cowboy type, always wearing plaid button–up
shirts, bootlegged jeans, and cowboy boots to match. He was a hard–working man. He was gone
most of the weekdays driving semi–truck across the country but living on the farm he seemed to
always be busy doing something on his time off including feeding the horses, tending to the garden,
riding four–wheeler around, finding odd jobs to do around the house, and always finding time to
play with us kids. One summer my grandfather had to drive semi to New Mexico that would be
roughly a week and a half long trek. I was finally old enough to be able to be a passenger! We drove
through the Rocky Mountains and what a beautiful sight

Narrative about My Grandfather Essay
That Special Someone, Grandpa I have an abundance of grotesque, yet, barely visible memories of
childhood. However, no breathtaking family trips, no unique family togetherness that taught a moral
lesson, no abnormal holidays. We still ate family meals together, but most often the children and
adults lived in different worlds. When I needed comforting or wanted the best of both worlds, I could
turn to my Grandpa. I distinctly remember the weeknights at his house. Sitting upon his lap, walking
down the street, getting pulled in my wagon through a park––these were things I loved doing with
Grandpa. I was not just another person to him: I was the ultimate grandson, and I was special.
"Grandpa was a giant of a man. He stood six...show more content...
He went to work when he was sixteen, and for the next forty years he worked in a coal factory.
Then he worked in a steel mill for another twenty years. He stopped working only because the steel
mill closed and he was too old to find another job. When I was with Grandpa, I could be a child and
yet see things through grown–up eyes. "You see that tree, Bud," he would say. "That tree was here
before those houses. Kundinger 2 God put that tree there, man put the houses. Which is more
beautiful?" If I climbed a tree, he would not say, "Get down." He said, "Climb it right so you
won't fall." "You appreciate what you work for," he used to say. He taught that lesson well. He
never let me win any game, he taught me to win by learning to lose. If he couldn't answer a
question, he was honest about it, but he would also say, "Why don't you find out and let me know
too." He listened to me and he heard my feelings, not just my words. There was a tougher side to
Grandpa, and I suppose this, too, made him unique with poise. He never would let rudeness from
one who knew it was wrong. Young children may be blunt but those are kids. Adults showing rude,
obscene things towards women were not allowed––in his presence. Grandpa is almost ninety–five
and now resides in a nursing home. The leg he fractured forty years ago is too weak to carry his
weight. His eyes are going bad. But to me he's still the big, strong man who used to take his
grandchild in his arms and rock to

Grandfather Essay

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Grandfather Essay