No One is Ever Really Gone
Have you ever missed someone so much that you don’t let yourself believe they’re actually gone? But are they really gone? Forever? As long as you remember them, they are always with us. I believe that anyone can be remembered for anything, be it good or bad.
We often remember famous or important people, such as Thomas Edison or Martin Luther King Jr. They each had a significant impact on history, but we also remember family, friends, and pets. I know that we cannot all be famous, but we are all important for many different reasons. To me, my grandpa was very important, he wasn’t famous but he made my grandma happy, he made my mom laugh, and he gave us children candy (which we all know is very important to a child), but it also made me happy just to see him. I was four when he died so of course I didn’t really comprehend what was going on, but now that I know I will never see him again, I can never forget him. So all I have are memories and the constant hope that if he was alive, he would approve of me.
I lost my grandpa when I was four and I lost my dog Jake when I was in fourth grade…I don’t like the number “4”. I was nine or ten when Jake died and he was about 14. Jake was a black lab, and my dad got him before he married my mom and kept him until the day he died. I really loved him, so very much; I couldn’t even grasp the concept of a life without him. He was my pillow when I fell asleep watching TV, let me hug him when I needed a hug, and gave me slobbery kisses. He was there for me when I was sad or angry but not only then, he was with me my whole life, and he always will be because I will always remember him.
Because I was not with Jake or my grandpa in their last minutes of life, I still cannot fully grasp the fact that they are really gone. When I go to my grandma’s house, I sometimes expect my grandpa to walk out of the bedroom and say something silly like “How’s your gizzard?” that always made me laugh. And sometimes I wake up in the morning and hear scratching on the floor downstairs, I jump up and sprint (sometimes slip and fall) down the steps to see my old dog Jake struggling to find a warm place to lie down; but he’s never there, he died five years ago. But instead I see Sophie, my new puppy and although I love her so much, she will never replace Jake. The memories of my dog and grandpa will live on as long as I want them to, and I never want them to die.
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