His Angel

January 19, 2010
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Holding his hand, I watched the heart monitor. I looked at the neon green lights; I didn’t know what they meant. The lines went up and down making all of these weird shapes. I heard a beeping sound every couple of seconds. Everyone around me cried and I did too.


On a scorching, fiery, hot, Sunday afternoon my family and I were enjoying a nice car drive to Stratford, CT, going to my grandparent’s house.


My grandma is very, enjoyable to be around. My grandma is petite and a little stout. She has white, short hair. My grandpa is very kind hearted. My grandpa is about six feet tall and scrawny. He has brown hair and wears it in a comb over. My grandpa was sightless, visionless, the only thing he could see were shadows and a little bit of color, sometimes. He loved to listen to the television.


I remember skipping out of the car wondering how pleasing my grandmother’s pasta was going to be, because she cooked it every week. Once I got to the door and rang the door bell five or six times in a row, that was my special ring. My grandma answered the door with, “Who’s ringing at my door.” She said sweetly.



I answered, “It’s me grandma!” my grandmother opened the door I sprinted into the kitchen to hug my grandma, grandpa, uncle, and my cousins.



I have three girl cousins they were Jackie age 10, Jen age 8, and Julie age 5. My cousins came to my grandparent’s house for dinner every week too.


As soon as my family got there it was time to eat our dinner. At the head of the table it was my grandpa on his right side were my grandma was seated first, I was in the middle with my cousin Jackie, and next to her was my cousin Julie beside her. At the end of the table was my uncle John, next to him on his right was my cousin Jen. Next was my mom and after her was my sister and then my dad. On the table there was pasta, a sauce bowl, cheese, salad, ham or ribs, meatballs, sausage, celery with cream cheese and garlic bread and a lot more. First we said our prayers, ate our pasta and then we were served our salad. Once we had finished our dinner we ate fruit and had dessert.


My grandpa got up and was carrying his bowls toward the kitchen, I then got up too. I dragged him into the kitchen and I put his bowl into the sink. He said, “Kirstyn, you are my angel. Thank you. I love you so much.” Whenever I saw him he always told me he had an angel and it was me. I walked him outside on to the porch where my grandma was sitting holding his blackberry ice-cream.



My cousins and I wanted to go outside to ride in our toy cars and bikes. We rode our bikes until my parents told us to come inside, because we had to leave. My grandpa came into the kitchen with two full to the top, bags filled with m&m’s, mints, cookies, lollypops, and skittles. He called the bags our vitamins. We walked out of the house and into their driveway and said our last good-byes and headed home.



A few weeks later my grandpa was in the hospital, with an awful lung disease. That night on August 10 was the most depressing day of my life. That night I remember waiting for hours holding his hand and looking around the small boring hospital room. Later my mom, sister, and I left, leaving my dad.


The next morning I wake up just like every morning happy. I come out into the living room, I glanced at my mom, I noticed her eye’s they were as wet as the Nile River, water rushing down her face. “What is wrong?”


“Kirstyn, I am, extremely, sorry to tell you,” she pauses, “your grandpa died late last night.” I was very, sad no words could explain.


I few days later was the funeral. Everyone that was there was crying, because they all were going to miss him. When I saw him in the black casket I thought he was asleep at first until my mom pulled me to the side and told me he was never going to wake up again. I really didn’t do much because I didn’t understand what was happening. When we went to the grave yard my family arrived in limo’s I thought we were like princesses, because it was such a big car. I got handed a red prickly rose and I was told to through it on the closed casket, so I did and as I through the rose I remembered the great last time I was with him.


The next time I went to my grandma’s house everyone was depressed and all I could think of was, I had lost my grandpa, and I was his only angel.





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