He was sixty-seven years old when he died. He died from leukemia, the result of smoking most of his life. “Who was he?” you might ask. A famous basketball player? A baseball player? A writer? An artist? The thing is, he was none of these. He was more important. He was my friend and my role model, but most of all he was my grandpa. When he died, part of me died with him.
I lost my closest friend. In my last conversation with him, he made me promise that I would never smoke or do drugs. I made that promise to him, said I love you, and then waited in the waiting room for the worst. When I left the room, I had two wishes. First, that my grandpa would not die, and second, that if he did, I could be with him. In the end, neither of these came true. I was in the waiting room for about 20 minutes but it seemed like hours. While I waited, I wondered what life might be like without my grandpa. It did not look good. At first, I felt that my life would be over, but then I remembered something my grandpa had said to me: “Everything happens for a reason so never lose faith.”
For several days after it happened I refused to believe it had happened. It seemed like he would gone for a little while, but he would be back. As time went on, I realized he was not coming back, and I got more and more depressed. The funeral was the first time it actually sank in completely that he was not coming back. I thought to myself, “HE IS DEAD, HE ISN’T COMING BACK and I WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN until I see him in heaven.”
At first, after it happened, I began to doubt God. This made me feel bad that my faith was that weak, but then I remembered a quote from Isaac Bashevis Singer: “Doubt is part of all religion. All the religious thinkers were doubters.” This helped a little, but I still felt bad. Why he would do that to my grandpa? He was a believer, a good role model, and God knew I was not ready for my grandpa to go. He knew it would destroy me. He knew my grandpa was the only person I could talk to about my life. For a while, after it happened I had no one or way to share my emotions with or through, so I went deeper into a depression. The only thing that brought me out of that depression was writing poetry.
Once I started writing poetry it quickly became my new way of sharing my emotions. Of course, no one but me read them because they started out very harsh but as time went on, I started to learn that some good things came out of it. First of all, I learned how to write poetry, through poetry I learned how to deal with my emotions, and I learned that God is always there. Even if it does not seem like he is and sometimes bad stuff happens, he is there and always will be.
I believe everything happens for a reason and something good comes from every situation. Through my grandpa’s death, I received the gift of poetry. Maybe you will meet someone new, make a new friend, find out something new about yourself, or even learn how to do something new. It might even change your whole outlook on life like it did to me. Therefore, you should always look for something good in every situation and maybe even try to find out why it happened. It will help you in everyday life and the problems that come with it. “So don’t quit on life or life just might quit on you too and at the end of your life when you stand before God, I would hope that you would not have a single bit of talent left,” and could say, “I used everything you gave me.” As said in a quote by Erma Bombeck.
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