We spent our whole life together, never wanting to be apart, helping each other in time of need. We were what you would call the best of friends except we were family members. He was my grandpa, the greatest person in the world. He was my everything, one that helped me make it through tough times, one to just be there for me when I needed a friend. Though it seemed for the short time he was there with me, he was gone even faster. .
The terrible thought of it made me cry, the word death. I knew it was inevitable, knowing how unhealthy my grandpa was for some time. I was only 13 years old when the day came. It was a day of tragedy and sorrow as we all mourned for him, but I do not know if anyone felt the same way that I did. I was just a kid; I was not supposed to have my best friend die, gone forever. I just could not accept the fact that he was never going to be here with me. .
My family was always telling him to stop smoking, one thing that he could not give up. I did not really understand the seriousness of this habit until his first heart attack. Sometime later they sent him in for open-heart surgery, even then knowing that he had been diagnosed with emphysema 15 years before all of this. After his open-heart surgery I can remember how healthy he really was. He was like a kid again; it seemed that all the pain and weaknesses he went through were gone. I can still think back on the time when me and him went to buy a bike, I was never happier. Just the fact that my grandpa was out riding a bike, just the feeling of how happy he was inside filled my heart with joy. Words cannot fully describe how I felt that day; it was like I had an old friend back, one who would be with me to the end. .
When it seemed that all things were great, something terrible shoved its way back into my grandpa's life, smoking. The terrible habit he started with as a young adolescent was back. He just could not break the habit.