On September 20, 2007 it was one of the days that changed my life... My grandfather's death. Even though I was only 7 years and 8 months old, I remember it as if it was yesterday. He wasn't my blood related grandfather, he was my mom's step father and he was the only one I had met and to this day I still haven't met my real grandfather, still alive, but still haven't met him after almost 16 years, but anyways my true grandfather was there my whole life. He may have just been my grandfather, but also my best friend.

   Every other day as the bus went by my house on the way home I always noticed his car sitting in my driveway and he was always sitting in my front yard waiting for me to come home. I was always with him, for example, every weekend after school on Fridays I went to his house and slept there. He's the reason why I'm addicted to coffee, every time I slept over that next morning he would put coffee in my sippy cup and my grandfather and I would sit at the counter just making conversation.

   The reason of his death is somewhat easy to explain. When he graduated high school he volunteered for the Vietnam War. He fully served 2 tours in the army, but before he left the army they released a chemical on the enemy named "Agent Orange" which caused the enemy to become very very sick and eventually die. The thing is our men were breathing the air that the chemicals were just released into they didn't die immediately, some did, but some didn't, but they still had it in there system. That chemical is what caused my grandfather to get brain cancer and die. I realize today that it's the basically the military's fault for his death, but they never meant to do it on purpose.

  I remember the day he died, because I had just seen him the day before in the hospital. Everyone knew he was going to die and they didn't tell me because I was young and I cared about him very much. He kept telling everyone that he could see doves in the corner of the room and everyone knew it was nearing his time to go to heaven. My aunt took me home and that day right before I left he said he loved me very much and would see me tomorrow because that's when he would get out of the hospital. The truth is the only reason why he got to leave the hospital is because he wanted to die at home. When he got home he sat down in his recliner went to sleep and he never woke up.

   I get home that day I hear my mom screaming and crying in her room I ask "what's wrong?" and the only thing she said was "Papa" I knew right then and there he was dead I dropped to the ground screaming and crying I didn't stop for like 2 weeks I was very upset it was like apart of me left this world and was never going to return. After that moment I was never the same because I didn't have my best friend in my life anymore. I never got to go to the funeral or the wake because I was too young and that made me very angry and upset, but I had to accept it. I can't remember where I was at the time for both the funeral and wake, but for sure at the time I was thinking about him every second. To this day I go to his grave on his birthday and his death date and I will never forget him or the amazing and special moments we had together for as long as I live.