Grandpa David

October 1, 2008
By Anonymous

Have you ever had cancer or known someone who had it? If you have, you know that’s it’s a treacherous journey between life and death and the only thing that keeps you alive is luck and the want power inside of you to just hold on. That’s what I think now I as look back at myself as a ten year old. When I was ten I didn’t have cancer but someone very important to me did, my Grandpa. I think I had a closer relationship to my grandpa than most kids do. The bond between my grandpa and I was deep down inside of us. It has showed itself more now that my grandpa has died. My grandpa David died of a rare type of pancreatic cancer. He went through treatments in Switzerland and spent months at a hospital in New York City. You might be interested to know exactly what happened so I’ll tell you.

It was a winter night, December 2nd 2004 to be exact. I was playing with an action figure by my Mom’s room. My Mom was on the phone with my grandma but I didn’t know why. I walked into my Mom’s bedroom to find out. But I couldn’t believe it, my Mom was crying! She motioned for me to leave but I couldn’t help to ask why she was crying.

“Mom, Why are you crying?” I said.
She motioned for me to leave again, this time with more tears streaming down her eyes. I was worried but I continued to play with my action figure. Finally I heard my Mom hang up the phone. She asked me to come in and talk with her. She had told me that my Grandpa David was diagnosed with cancer. I was only eight years old so I didn’t get it much. But I knew that it was some disease and immediately I was worried. My Mom was still crying and she decided she was going to take a hot bath and not have dinner. She told me not to tell Allie, my sister. I said ok and I walked downstairs for some dinner. Later that night my Mom told my Dad. She decided to tell my sister Allie that Grandpa was sick. Allie was about six years old and she couldn’t understand what cancer was.
After that day, my Mom and her sister Beth went to New York constantly. My Mom would leave for about a week come back home for maybe three days and then leave again. My Mom even came to school during lunch one day. She told me had bought a ticket on the next flight to New York. While she was there my Grandpa had also developed a staff infection from a dirty I.V. called a port. A port is surgically put into someone for fluids or medicine that is liquid. It is just a big version of an I.V. Anyway the staff infection was a horrible addition to my Grandpa’s health.

During Winter break of 2005 My Grandpa started to become weaker each day. My family and my cousins had a trip planned to Hawaii. But it looked it would be a better idea to go visit my Grandpa instead. That’s exactly what we did. During our trip to New York we spent

New-years eve with my Grandpa in the hospital. I remember going downstairs with my family, my cousins, and my Grandpa. We listened to the worst comedian in the world and decided going downstairs was not a good idea. As we went up the elevator, my Grandpa was making fun of the horrific comedian and he said to me that I could have done so much better than that. There were eleven people in the elevator and chose to compliment me. It means a lot to me that he did that. Just so you know how absolutely horrible the comedian was I will tell you one of his jokes.
“I went to get a massage a week ago and the m
handed me the lotion.”
Isn’t that a bad joke? Oh yeah, not one person even laughed, except one person laughed because the joke was so bad.

The next day my family left New York. My Mom only stayed at home for a couple of days and then she went back to visit my Grandpa. About eight days after that my Dad got a call at work. My Grandpa was dead. After school, before my Dad told us that my Grandpa died, he offered a treat at moonstruck after dinner. We decided that would be a great idea. When my sister and I got home, my Dad asked us to come upstairs. When we got there my Dad had a serious look on his face. My dad asked us to sit on his bed. And then he told that my Grandpa had died this morning. I burst into tears. It was all to fast. My sister, being so young did not exactly know what to do but you could tell she was sad. My Dad had a good idea. He said we should call my Mom we both talked to her and she told us that we were coming to New York early the next morning for my Grandpa’s funeral. Everything came so fast I just couldn’t believe it. This event has made me stronger but I always feel sad because he is not here anymore. Sometimes I still feel he is here helping my family and I with our lives.

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