January 19, 2010
By Caroline McCormack BRONZE, Fairfield, Connecticut
Caroline McCormack BRONZE, Fairfield, Connecticut
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

He was like a best friend. Apple is how I would describe him. If you leave it out for too long it starts to rot but with a little bit of lemon juice, it will last longer.

John is his name, he passed away in January 2009, the day after his 82nd birthday. I was 13 when it happened, and I didn’t see him often. I always wonder why he had to leave this world so soon. I still had a lot to tell him. I wanted to let him know that we won all of our softball games, and that Kaitlyn got into the college she wanted. Most importantly I wanted to let him know that I love him.

I was asked by my family many times to visit him in the hospital, yet every time my answer was no. I always had better things to do it seemed at the time. I still live in a pool of regret to this day. Sometimes I pray to him when I feel sad or lonely or just wish that one of my best friends was still here. Did his death have an effect on my life? Yes you can say that, but he will always stay in my heart, and all the great memories we had.

I was listening to my favorite song when dad has to come in and interrupt.
“Would you like to go visit grandpa in the hospital with me?” He questioned while walking toward the door.

“No way.” I think to myself. “Sure” I respond with disappointment.

“Ew it smells, we better not stay here for too long. I love how I have to come and Kaitlyn doesn’t, this is going to be so boring.” I thought to myself.

“Hi grandma!” excited and smiling I walked into grandpas hospital room. The last time I ever saw my grandpa. The last time I ever got to see his cute little Irish green eyes that look like mine. The last time I heard his sweet, soft voice. The last time he said I love you, but I didn’t say it back. I don’t know why I didn’t respond, but I guess it just didn’t feel right at the time. I don’t know to this day. The last time I touched his fair wrinkly skin. The last time for everything. But I didn’t know that at the time.

“Hello” I laughed into the phone after Brittany told a joke. “Care, where have you been?” Mom has been trying to get a hold of you all day.” Kaitlyn, with a gentle voice, started talking into the phone. “Sorry.. what’s up?” There was a long silence. I got worried, I ran out of the room into the nearest bedroom.

“Kait…?” Answer me! That voice in my head said. “Grandpa died.” Suddenly without warning. It was the most lost feeling I’ve ever experienced. A single tear trickled down my rosy red cheek. Then another which was followed by two more, then three. Soon I was standing in Katie’s room, blurry sight, tears splashing off my chin landing…seeping deep into the soft blue rug. Regret… Regret… Regret. Regret for not going to the hospital a lot. Regret for not telling him I loved him that last time I saw him in the hospital. Regret for not being the best granddaughter I could possibly be for him. Regret… Regret… Regret. The awful word kept repeating over and over in my head. I now know the true meaning of the word regret. But I’ve also learned to live each day like it’s your last. To tell your family members that you love them, often! I know I can’t bring my grandpa back but I hope he’s looking down on me with a proud Irish smile.

The author's comments:
after my grandpa had passed away, i had so much regret and i felt by writing this piece, with the help from my english teacher Mrs. Rembish, and peers in class, i could express my feelings.

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