6 Sept. 2013
I remember when I was 15 years old spending a lot of weekends together with my Grandfather, going to
junk yards, auctions, camping and hanging around at his house. He was short, dark skinned, eyes green
as jade, hair black as coal and a personality that shined everywhere the sun stole upon.
That year after him hiding his sickness, he started to cough up blood. My mother forced him to go to
the hospital. I hated that place. The white walls, the smell of death, people crying and laughing and the
people just talking about their loved ones. We went back to where they had him. The doctor was
waiting there for us. He said, ” Bob has Leukemia cancer and it spread through his whole body.“ I sat
next to him, held his hand and said, “ I love you. You’re my best friend.” He responded, “You’re my
baby girl. I love you too.”
My day went to hell. September 21st, wow, two days before my mom’s birthday. I spent a lot of time by
his side. The next day we decided to go home to eat dinner. Not even 10 minutes later the phone rings.
My mom looked at me and said, “We will be there as soon as we can.”
We jumped into her Black, T-top 1983 Trans Am and drove to the hospital. My mom, hair black as the
night, eyes and body frame like her fathers, never said a word to me. I knew what happened. We
walked into the hospital room. and I crumbled to my knees, I cried.
It was officially September 23rd, my moms birthday. We went to multiple stores to find him a black
suit, cowboy boots and a green shirt and tie. After all that we drove to the Funeral home and dressed
him. I placed Red long stemmed rose…