Graveyards with my Grandfather Essay
father’s family, my grandparents, for the summer. They lived about three hours away, but I did not know them very well, and although I never particularly wanted to go, my mother said it was best, so I could get to know my father’s family.
My grandfather, whom I called Papa, while his name was actually Sid, was the highlight of my visits. My mother always told me stories about him, and as the story goes, he worshipped me when I was a toddler. I was the first grandchild, the first niece, the first