My grandfather was only 62-years-old at the time, yet his life came to an end. On one cruel winter day, before school, my mother and I received the chilling news from my grandmother. My grandfather died of cancer. After many days in the hospital, he was not able to be saved; apparently the doctors tried extremely hard to save his life. The rest of my day, was a disaster.

I was only in fifth grade. I wondered how I was supposed to deal with a situation such as the death of my beloved grandfather. At school, I couldn’t pay attention in class, I was disturbed. Occasionally, tears streamed down my cheek, and I tried to hide the sadness inside of me. But, my friends noticed, they asked me what happened. I didn’t know whether to tell them or not, I couldn’t bear to tell them. I spent the rest of my day hiding from society.

My grandpa was a wonderful man. He treated me better than anybody else, even better than my mother. When I was in kindergarten, he would walk me to and from school. I have many memories of the wonderful times I spent with my grandpa. I was suppose to visit him a year after he died, I did in fact, to visit his grave.

Whenever I think about my wonderful, beloved grandpa, tears stream down my cheek. I will never be able to see him again.