Personal Narrative: My Grandpa's Funeral

I was in the bathroom putting on my makeup the morning before my grandpa’s funeral. My eyes were puffy. I had to keep reapplying my foundation, eyeliner, and mascara since I was tearing up with every thought. All I could see in the mirror was how sad I looked, and all the painful memories the last few weeks of watching him die. I didn’t feel good at all. I wanted to go back to bed and cry, but I knew my family needed me there, and I needed to say goodbye.
I was replaying everything that I had done with him and everything that had happened the previous month. My grandpa, Duane, had battled with cancer on and off for seven years. He survived colon cancer, but two years ago the doctors found a spot on his lung. They said that they could shrink the spot with radiation, and it wasn’t a big deal. Little did I know our annual Minnesota Twins game last September and my grandpa’s 80th birthday party on November 2nd would be my last fun filled memories of him.
Mostly all of our family gathered together at Christmas. Grandpa was on oxygen, but I, along with my siblings and cousins, had the impression that he was going to get better and beat it. We all had a great time exchanging stories from the past and laughing over some of the …show more content…
My grandpa was the most caring, loving, thoughtful person I knew. He was such a great person and didn’t deserve any of this. Just sitting there thinking about everything I had done with him in the past year would my last memories with him. I wouldn’t get to see him in church sitting on the end of the pew. I wouldn’t get to ride with him in his crappy 1994 Chevy pickup. I wouldn’t get to go out with him to his garden to pick tomatoes, something we both loved to do and eat. I wouldn’t get to sit with him at the kitchen table playing a game of cards, and I wouldn’t get to walk into their living room to see him watching a ball game on TV. I was so close to him, and I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him