Personal Narrative: My Grandpa's Home

It was Friday, October 2, 2015, when I stayed the night at my grandpa’s house. I do this every so often to spend quality time with this funny old man. When I walked through the back porch door around six in the evening, I could already smell the sweet aroma of syrup wafting through the air. As I approached the sliding glass door, I could see that he already had pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs waiting for us on the kitchen table. It was a “breakfast for dinner” type of night. I slowly opened the door and took a step inside. He immediately turned and smiled so wide that I could see the gold fillings in his mouth. “Hi sunshine,” he yelled competing with Johnny Cash who was playing on his stereo. I ran and gave him a tight hug and told him that I missed him.
As we sat down at the dinner table, I peered out over the living room before me. His house was a second home to me, filled with fond memories of my childhood. I get …show more content…
Time seems to pass so quickly while he talks and yet I feel as if this moment will never end, and I don’t want it to. As engaged as I was, I realized that for him it was a great opportunity to relive special moments in his past. His laugher is like medicine that heals my soul. It is contagious to all those around him. When you are with him you feel comfortable like you are home. After listening to him reminisce, I find it harder and harder to keep my eyes open. He notices my sleepy look and tells me that it is time to go to sleep and that we will talk more tomorrow. I tell him goodnight and walk upstairs. With each step I take, I think about how lucky I am to have this man in my life. He is not your typical grandpa, whatever that may be. He has been a special part of my life as far back as I can remember. These are the memories I know I will cherish for years to come and stories I will one day pass down to my children. These are the things that legacies are made of and I am so grateful that this is