Dealing With the Death of a Grandfather Essay

When I was still a child, I only used to hear about deaths that had struck other families. I never paid much attention to such bad news because I assumed it was just a normal thing in life. My Sunday school teacher taught me that people went to heaven once they died.

My father was the last born in their family, and therefore, he was instructed by his siblings to accommodate our grandpa in our home. When grandpa moved into our house, I was only ten years old. Since grandpa spent most of his time at home, I was very close to him than anyone in our family.

The death of my grandpa happened several years ago, but it still haunts me because I have never come to accept his departure. His death came when I was in my mid-twenties, and it struck when our family least expected it. Grandpa did not suffer from any chronic diseases as most elderly people do; hence my family was caught unaware.

His death was an eye-opener to me because before his passing on, I thought death occurred only to certain people. It was during his burial that I realized that death is a must for all living things. In my mind, I never expected grandpa to depart from us, and when he finally did, I felt that God was so unfair to me because He should have left grandpa to see my children. I also felt like I was too young to deal with this situation.

My parents did not seem to grieve for longer than I did. From their conversations, I could tell they were celebrating grandpa’s life, but then there was nothing to celebrate for me because I had lost my closest companion and counselor. I was not content with the advice and wisdom I had earned from grandpa because I felt there was still room for more of his counsel.

What made me cry the most was the fact that grandpa went down with so much knowledge, and there was no way I could have retrieved this knowledge or otherwise stop his death. This grieving and mourning fell on me immediately after his funeral. Before his burial, there were so many people at our home, but when we laid him to rest, that’s when reality dawned on me.

I used to visit his grave quite often and expressed my feelings for him. I used to hear that the dead could communicate with the living through dreams; therefore, I expected grandpa to communicate with me when I was deep asleep. When this failed to happen, I was confused because I could not understand why grandpa could not do like the other dead people.

It took me a very long time to get used to life without grandpa. My family was very supportive because my mom and dad understood the bond that existed between grandpa and me. I still refer to grandpa’s teachings because they have molded me into whom I am. I have come to learn that experience is the best teacher of all times.

Today I’m in a better position to advise people who have experienced the same problem. It is said that unless one understands darkness, he can never appreciate the light. There are so many challenges that faced my family, but I have chosen to leave them out due to their complexity.

When grandpa was still living, no one thought he played a significant role, but when he was gone, he left a very big gap that nobody could ever fill. Philosophers argue that if you want people to recognize your efforts, you must stop for some time for people to realize your role in their lives. Grandpa served as the unifying factor in our family tree.

I still imagine there are other people in my family who were affected by grandpa’s death, but they still hold their emotions to themselves. I have heard other people say that one can never know what he has until he loses it. Grandpa’s death made me stay alert just in case we lost another family member. There was a grand reception at grandpa’s funeral, which left me wondering why such a feast was not held while he was still alive.

Sprenger (2003) suggests that parents should prepare their children for the departure of their grand parents because if I were prepared for grandpa’s departure, I would have moved on with my life sooner than later. It is also important to appreciate others while they still live. This can be achieved by giving them special gifts and also taking their photos. You should have seen how people were struggling to appear in grandpa’s photos at his funeral.

My uncles and cousins used to visit our home quite often to check on grandpa, but his death brought their visits to a halt. They hardly came to our house unless there was a very important family meeting, and that’s when our families split. These family meetings lasted until all of grandpa’s property was shared among his heirs. To me, these material things meant nothing, and I could not compare them to the relationship between grandpa and me.

I only wished grandpa would come back to life and see what his descendants were going through. Grandpa was wise enough to write down a will that commanded how his possessions would be shared. This event made me realize that there is only one life to be lived; hence I should enjoy it to its fullest.

I still remember how, during my free time, I would pop into grandpa’s house for a couple of stories. My grandpa was very talkative; hence our conversations were extended to the late hours of the night. I did not tire from listening to grandpa because every story presented a new lesson for me. Grandpa was such a religious person, so all his narratives were based on religion.

There is one crucial lesson that grandpa taught me back then, but it still rings in my mind like it was yesterday. Prior to the material day, our house had been raided by burglars, but nobody was hurt in the incident. Grandpa referred to that incidence to explain to me that according to Holy Scriptures, God is the giver of life, and nobody else has the capacity to do so.

He argued that God being the creator of man He is the only one who knows the beginning and the end to a person’s life. He encouraged me to be brave since he believed everything that happens to humans has a reason. Grandpa advised me to always consult God in everything that I wanted to do in the future because he felt the success of one’s plan depends on God.

Grandpa was a very active member of our local church. Catholic faithful used to meet in his house for fellowship prayers and bible study. During school holidays, grandpa would invite me to join him in those fellowship meetings that were normally held twice per week. He argued that these meetings were used to create awareness for Christians on how they can improve their relationship with God.

Grandpa’s death provided a window of opportunity for me to experience. Honey & Mumford (2006) argues that in real life, the experience is not earned through reading or lectures. In fact, people learn through experience regardless of whether they lose or gain something in exchange for the lesson. It is, therefore, certain that a lesson learned through experience can not be lost.

According to Revel (2005), people may lose what they hold dear for them to learn their lesson. Therefore, if they lose what they value most, they will never learn because if what they lose does not affect their lives, they will not consider avoiding the recurrence of the same incidence. In the biblical scriptures, death is mentioned as the punishment for one’s sins, but this punishment was lifted by the crucifixion of Jesus Christ on the cross.

Grandpa taught me that I should do to others what I expected them to do to me. He used to love his best example. He argued that if I wanted to be loved, I must first love others more because I love love.

He explained that whatever good or bad things that one does towards others, they will definitely come back to him or her. Actually, if people were keen to exercise this principle, there would be no jails or such things. I have found jealousy and selfness to be the major cause of all evils. To prevent bad things from coming back to me, I try my best to do good things for others because the same thing will be done to me.

Grandpa used to tell me that he was content with what he had acquired in his younger days. He taught me that the most important things in life are food and clothing because they are necessary for one’s survival. He said that a person could enjoy his sleep in the bush as long as his stomach is full.

He was also quick to mention that riches are blessings from God. He said that God’s blessings are always plenty for all humans, but when one refuses to share his blessings with others, he limits his blessings because there is no room for more blessings. With this in mind, I share whatever I have regardless of its quantity or volume because God avails just enough for all.

To illustrate this idea better, grandpa asked me to invite some of my friends into his house for a cup of tea. When my pals and I were done with tea, he brought a huge basket filled with loaves of bread. He asked me to hold as many as I could, but I only managed to hold five of them while the rest slipped from my hands. We repeated the same procedure, but this time, he asked me to pass over the loaves to my pals as soon as I held enough.

He explained that most people refuse to share what they have because they want it to be plenty, but in the final end, they have very little. This is because most of their possessions go to waste. On the contrary, those who share with others have plenty and can never lack anything.

He further explained that since human beings were brought into this world by God with nothing, there is no way a person can carry anything out of this world. This, in return, has made me consider helping others who lack what I have in plenty because I consider my life to be worthy if I live it for others.

This is true because, according to Christian teachings, humans are supposed to love each other unconditionally. Jesus, the Messiah, further explained this element to feature one’s enemies. I apply this element in life by accepting all people as the children of God regardless of their faith or culture. I have also learned to co-exist with my enemies because God is our Universal father.

Grandpa insisted that riches are not a result of hard work but God’s blessing. To support this point, he gave examples of people who used and still worked hard, and yet they were not rich while their counterparts who were considered lazy had lots of wealth. I have learned to let nature take its course when I can not change the direction of events in my life.

I have come to realize that God understands our efforts; He knows how much we have tried. By reading Holy Scriptures, I have learned that our worries are useless because they can not help us in times of need. Since God feeds the birds of the air, He is able to feed me too.

The above argument has made me change my attitude towards poor people and appreciate them for who they are. Many people think that the poor are to blame for their poverty because they don’t work as much as they should. Furthermore, Christianity states that God cares for the needy.

Grandpa told me to handle all people in the same manner regardless of their status in society or their profession because all humans are equal before God. He argued that some people would appreciate another person depending on his influence in society.

Christianity teaches that God humbles those who are proud and honors those who are humble because He is the creator of both evil and good people. Grandpa referred to the story of Zacchaeus in the bible, who was short in height and was hated by people because of the nature of his work, but he was honored by the Messiah. In my opinion, the social status of a person does not reflect his personality because a profession only provides the source of income.

Honey, P & Mumford, A. (2006). The learning styles questionnaire, 80 – item version. Maidenhead, UK, Peter Honey Publications.

Revel, P. (2005). Each to their own . UK: The Guardian.

Sprenger, M. (2003). Differentiation through learning styles and memory . Thousand Oaks, CA: Corvin Press.

  • Chicago (A-D)
  • Chicago (N-B)

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Bibliography

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narrative essay on death of a grandfather

Watching my grandfather pass away changed my life

Watching my grandfather pass away changed my life. It wasn’t sudden and it shouldn’t have been unexpected. Yet it seemed unnatural, mysterious, and incredibly uncomfortable. I can still remember receiving the phone call from the hospital, my mother letting out a distraught cry that my grandfather was no more. My initial reaction was shock and confusion: I just couldn’t understand what had happened. Looking back, he had been under intensive care for so long – five months to be exact – that we should have known that his body was only taking its natural course.

It now surprises me most that nowhere along the timeline from my grandfather’s early diagnosis of “heart and lung problems” to his death did a healthcare professional talk to my family about the reality of the situation. I’m sure the cultural barriers made it difficult, along with the intimidation factor of dealing a congregation of loved ones that paraded with him at any given moment. Still, my grandfather had two heart attacks, his lungs had completely collapsed, and he relied on artificial nutrition. He didn’t even look like the strong, independent person he truly was anymore.  His entire body swollen, his face cringed in pain, and tears falling from his eyes every now and then.

All signs pointed towards an inevitable death, yet if you asked anyone in the family, he was doing great. He was recovering and would be out of the hospital sooner or later. In our hearts, we truly believed that he would survive his disease. The doctor didn’t tell us much, but he informed us that there was a chance – that was all we really needed. So the day he passed away, a deep-rooted immortal hope had died. My father immediately blamed himself for not trying hard enough. It is something that he has learned to live with, but I know the experience has been extremely traumatizing for us all. My grandfather’s death seemed unjust, cruel, painful, and (worst of all) unnecessarily prolonged.

This experience, being my first, I took as the definition of death. I found myself even more uncomfortable with the mortality of man than before my grandfather became terminally ill. As someone who wanted to become a physician, it solidified my belief that preventive and curative care was the best care. I would do the best I could, I would never give up, and I would never accept failure.

In fact, as silly as it sounds, I hadn’t really explored the thought of my future patients ever dying. The hectic nature of medical school barely gave me time to think of these things either. Caught up between gross anatomy labs and biochemistry lectures, I found myself dreading the times when we would have mandatory humanities classes, wanting to spend the time focusing on my study instead. This all changed one morning, when a guest speaker, Dr. Ira Byock, lectured the topic of dying. I expected to hear a somewhat mechanical approach – try your hardest to prolong life in the patient, be compassionate to the family, and fill out the appropriate paperwork after the patient passes away. After all, that’s how my grandfather died.

I remember walking away from that lecture fascinated. My entire life, I thought being a doctor meant prolonging life, yet here someone challenged that ideology. He proposed that dying is normal and wellness is not limited to quantity of life. This seemed absolutely bizarre. How could people feel well while they were dying? Wasn’t it a moment of struggle and defeat? My experiences clearly contradicted what I was being lectured, yet at the same time, what he was saying made complete sense.

At this point in my education, I find myself in a class focused on end-of-life care and under a mentorship exploring the topic outside of the classroom. It hasn’t changed my perspective towards providing the best preventive and curative care as necessary. But I do know that if and when I have a patient who reaches the end of life, I will know what to do. In such a trying and delicate situation, I will undertake a leadership role as the healthcare provider. I will actively educate and support the family in making the best decisions for their loved one. But most of all, I will ensure that the patient is cared for, well-informed, unafraid, and comfortable to the best of my ability in their last days. I have learned many new skills that I hope I never have to use. But if the time comes, I will be unafraid to reach out and facilitate the best care possible. Those moments, although difficult, I hope will become my most rewarding.

Since my grandfather’s passing, I have often thought back to him. In the beginning, I wondered more about the spiritual nature of his death. Now, I find myself thinking about who he was as a person, and how he would have liked to die. I wonder how his death would have affected my family as a whole if things had been different. But he was just one patient, in one bed, with one family, in one hospital.

What about the rest? There must be countless hospitals, with countless patients and families, dying in physical and emotional pain every day in this country. Though I may not be able to change the model of end-of-life care right now, I feel a little more comfortable knowing there is a shift towards cultural competency and exposure to palliative care in medical education. Doctors will be trained better in this arena and somewhere along the line, the hope is that the effects will trickle down so that patients and their families will come to realize that it is ok to die.

Shraddha Dalwadi is a medical student .

narrative essay on death of a grandfather

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Home — Essay Samples — Life — Grandfather — My Unforgotten Childhood Memories With My Grandfather

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My Childhood Memories of My Grandfather

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Words: 964 |

Published: Oct 22, 2018

Words: 964 | Pages: 3 | 5 min read

Works Cited

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  • McAdams, D. P., & Bauer, J. J. (2018). The narrative identity approach to personality psychology. The SAGE handbook of personality theory and assessment, 395-415.

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narrative essay on death of a grandfather

The Student News Site of Belfast Central School

The Belfast Beacon

Losing a grandfather.

Losing+a+Grandfather

Rylea and Kyle Comstock November 16, 2017

The following two essays were written by siblings Rylea and Kyle Comstock, reflecting on the loss of their beloved grandfather.

Rylea Comstock

It was December 23, 2016, a normal winter morning and one that I will never forget.  It seemed like a typical morning, except that both my parents were home from work on a work day.  That was a  morning that will always be ingrained in me.  It was a morning that brought me great sadness.  This was the morning I found out that I had lost one of the greatest men in my life to a heart attack, which forever changed my family’s lives in more ways than one.

My grandpa was the life of every party he attended.  We spent every holiday and birthday at his house, just hanging out and being together as a family.  My grandpa loved playing music from his playlist.  Every time one of his favorite songs came on, he would say “I love this song man,” and he would turn it up so loud you couldn’t even hear the person next to you.  It seems that happened often, especially after a few drinks.

My grandpa would always manage to put a smile on people’s faces.  I couldn’t name one person who disliked him, not even his ex-wife.  Even though they were divorced they still maintained a great relationship.  They become friends and communicated on all aspects of their children’s lives and their farm business.  Most importantly, they were great grandparents together.

narrative essay on death of a grandfather

It’s hard to think that he won’t be there to see me grow into adulthood.  He did not see me finally achieve getting my license. He won’t be there for pictures before my senior prom.  He will not be able to attend my high school graduation or my wedding.  But most of all, my grandpa won’t be able to meet my kids.  One thought that gives me closure is that he will be with me in spirit, but it’s hard to not have him here anymore.

The Day My Grandfather Died

Kyle Comstock

December 22 2016: for some people it’s just another day or just three days before Christmas. But to me, it’s the day that my life took a turn for the worst, the day that tested my emotional strength, the day that my grandfather, Douglas Robert Comstock, passed away.

No one expected it: he was 68 years old and still living like he was 28. I had seen him just the day before, and he was a bit sick, but everyone in my family thought it was a cold because it was the middle of winter. He was full of life and we were talking about how we were going to have Christmas dinner at his house the 24th. I will never forget the last words I said to him: “See ya tomorrow Grandpa, I love you: ” At that time, I did not know that it would be the last time I would ever see him.

narrative essay on death of a grandfather

This caused so much emotional stress for my family for many reasons. One of them was that he was the head of the Comstock family for many years and he was the glue that held us together. There were so many family events that took place at his house. He also attended events at his ex wife’s (my grandmother’s) house and maintained a friendship with her despite not having a romantic relationship with her anymore. This shows just how good of a man he truly was. He touched the lives of so many people and showed me the meaning of what a real man is. He showed me that hard work and dedication can get you anything you want in life and that you can find happiness in any situation. The best example of this when immediately after breaking his rib and puncturing his lung in a four wheeler accident three years ago, he was still cracking jokes.

In the months following the tragic death of my grandfather, not even my parents knew that I was still having a hard time dealing with it and crying myself to sleep sometimes. Well, no one knew until my dad came to my room and saw me crying one night. He asked me what was wrong and I asked him how he got over grandpa dying. He said that it was hard for him to get over the death of his father and his role model, but he knew that he was still with him. He shared a story with me about the trip to Mexico that my parents and their friends had just gone on, about a bee that flew onto his drink. He told me that for some reason, when the bee was flying around him, it felt almost as if his father was still with him.

I did not experience full closure until July 22nd at my grandfather’s wake and ash burying ceremony, when I myself buried his ashes in the ground. It was at that point that I finally knew that he was in a better place and  that everything would be okay. This experience, believe it or not, helped me and prepared me for future emotional stress and showed me that if I could get through this, I could get through anything.

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Deborah Lyman • Nov 18, 2017 at 1:58 pm

I love these tributes and I love the authors. There is such a special bond between many people and their grandparents. I am 100% sure that grandpa was very proud of these two.

Kay Comstock • Nov 17, 2017 at 9:46 pm

I am so proud of Rylea and Kyle, my niece and nephew, for writing this beautiful tribute to their grandfather and my brother. Doug was a great, honest and hard working man. He definitely was the glue that held his family together. We all miss him terribly. Thank you Rylea and Kyle. I love you Aunt Kay

Evelyn Alessi • Nov 17, 2017 at 8:43 pm

These essays are a wonderful tribute to your grandfather. I’m glad you will have many memories to comfort you.

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Louis Gossett Jr.’s Greatest Roles: A Streaming Guide

His range was wide, as evidenced by performances in projects as different as “Roots,” “An Officer and a Gentleman” and “Diggstown.”

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Louis Gossett Jr., wearing a khaki military uniform and brown hat, stands in front of a row of men in civvies.

By Jason Bailey

When most people think of the venerable character actor Louis Gossett Jr., who died Friday at 87 , they understandably summon up his Oscar-winning turn in the 1982 drama “An Officer and a Gentleman.” But he accumulated over 200 credits over a screen, stage and television career that spanned more than 60 years, and brought a skill set that included not only drama but also comedy, science fiction, action and horror. Here are a few highlights from his illustrious career and where to stream them.

Rent or buy it on most major platforms .

Gossett had already established himself as an actor of note onstage, and in television guest shots and small but memorable appearances on film (“The Landlord,” “Skin Game”) when he was cast in the ABC mini-series adaptation of Alex Haley’s best seller. He plays the key role of Fiddler, an older enslaved man who becomes a mentor to the central character, Kunta Kinte (LeVar Burton). Fiddler allows Gossett to display several of the gifts that would distinguish him throughout his career: an inherent dignity, a no-nonsense toughness and a (seemingly contradictory) warmth and humanity. The mini-series was a cultural sensation , breaking records for television viewership, and Gossett would win an Emmy for his unforgettable work.

‘An Officer and a Gentleman’

Stream it on Max ; rent or buy it on major platforms .

Gossett was 45 when he won the Oscar for best supporting actor — the first Black actor to do so — for his magnificent turn in this Richard Gere-fronted romantic drama. The role of Sergeant Foley, the drill instructor who breaks Gere’s hotshot recruit while simultaneously becoming a father figure to the young man, could have been played as a walking, talking cliché. But Gossett, who trained for the role at Camp Pendleton’s school for drill instructors, transcends the tropes of the character, investing Foley with genuine decency and unexpected warmth under his rock-hard exterior. “Mr. Gossett, always a good supporting player, is this time a star,” our critic wrote at the time .

‘Enemy Mine’

Rent or buy it on major platforms .

Had Gossett landed a role like Foley a decade earlier, he might have spent the 1970s playing an assortment of rich and complicated characters. But the 1980s were not exactly a golden era of studio filmmaking, and he struggled to find projects worthy of his considerable talents, often proving the most (or only) noteworthy element of otherwise marginal action pictures like “Iron Eagle” and “Firewalker.” But he got a genuine chance to act in this futuristic sci-fi adventure from the director Wolfgang Petersen (“Air Force One”). Dennis Quaid is an intergalactic pilot marooned on a distant planet with an alien life form; Gossett is said alien, given the unenviable challenge of acting a leading role through pounds of scaly makeup that renders him all but unrecognizable. Yet he’s up to the task, investing the character with pathos and gravitas, while our knowledge of the actor underneath lends serious symbolic weight to the film’s themes of understanding and commonality between races.

‘Diggstown’

Stream it on Tubi and PluoTV ; rent or buy it on Fandango at Home .

One of the undiscovered gems of the Gossett filmography is this sports-tinged comedy, a bit of a specialty for the director Michael Ritchie, whose credits include “Semi-Tough” and “The Bad News Bears.” James Woods is a fast-talking con man and fight promoter who descends on the Georgia town of the title, known for its high-dollar illegal boxing matches, and makes a big bet: His fighter can take on any 10 opponents in 24 hours and beat them all. Gossett is Honey Roy Palmer, the fighter, and at 48, he seems like anything but a sure bet. But in this “Sting”-style twisty tale, no one and nothing are what they seem. It’s a perfect role for the actor, who plays it with a twinkle in his eye and plenty of tricks up his sleeve, and the result is “ a funny and vulgar fable ” that our critic praised for its “speed and cheerful nerviness.”

Gossett received his final Emmy nomination (for outstanding supporting actor in a limited series or movie) for this adaptation of the wildly influential graphic novel by Dave Gibbons and Alan Moore. Series creator Damon Lindelof freely reframed, reinterpreted and remixed the narrative out of its 1980s origins to address not only the hidden corners of America’s racial history, but also the current moment of activism and protest. Gossett appears in the vital supporting role of Will Reeves, grandfather to the protagonist, Angela Abar (Regina King), whose age and wheelchair use hide a secret past: while a policeman in the late 1930s, he took on the secret identity of Hooded Justice, righting the wrongs his racist police department ignored. It’s a staggering performance, and one that speaks to the power of Gossett’s persona: You don’t doubt for one moment that this man was once a literal superhero.

‘The Color Purple’

Though he has several posthumous projects in postproduction, the final feature film appearance during Gossett’s lifetime was his brief but stinging turn in Blitz Bazawule’s adaptation of the Alice Walker story. He appears as Ol’ Mister, father to Colman Domingo’s Mister, the abusive and domineering husband who keeps the protagonist, Celie, under his thumb. In just a handful of scenes, Gossett’s work as a growling, bitter old man tells us everything we need to know about how and why the younger Mister is the way he is. Gossett shared in the nomination for outstanding performance by a cast in a motion picture at the Screen Actors Guild Awards, and that might be the best way to remember him: as an invaluable piece of so many ensembles, a team player who nevertheless always shined bright.

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