Descriptive Essay About My Grandfather

There have been countless influential people in my life that I’ve come across. One who was a meticulous inspiration continues to be my grandfather. My grandmother had remarried to the one I call “grandpa” when I was at the age of five, and they both took to each other’s grandchildren as their own. With my mother and me only living a mile down the road from their farmhouse out in the country, I’d spent heaps amount of time there as a child. Indeed, I had been without a father but my grandfather stepped up to the plate and had taken me under his wing and willingly played the personification of a father figure.

I have an abundance of grotesque, yet, barely visible memories of childhood. However, no breathtaking family trips, no unique family togetherness that taught a moral lesson, no abnormal holidays. We still ate family meals together, but most often the children and adults lived in different worlds. When I needed comforting or wanted the best of both worlds, I could turn to my Grandpa.

I think the person who has had the most profound effect on my life besides my parents is my grandfather. I never realized before how much of an effect he had on my interests and goals for the future. Years ago, he used to tell me stories about historical events and experiences he had fighting in Vietnam and my great grandfather fighting in World War 2. His vivid descriptions always made it so interesting and, in some cases, more light-hearted than what actually happened. To this day he still has more stories to tell me, and never fails to captivate my interest. In doing this, he opened my eyes to my biggest interest, history, and encouraged me to pursue this interest throughout school. I feel like it would help to give a short summary of his life and how it affected me.

Family history is very important to me. It teaches me about my ancestors, family background, culture, heritage, and generations of traditions. By knowing where I came from, helps me have a better perspective of my life. Having a clear understanding on my family background allows me to know how deep my family’s roots are, and it brings me closer to self discovery.

“I can’t believe that’s true!” I exclaimed, my laughter echoing through the room. My grandpa and I had been chatting on the phone for the past half an hour. You would imagine a man his age would be boring and dull. However, he was quite the joker. At least with me, since I was, of course, his favorite granddaughter.

Her breath came in short gasps, refusing help from a breathing mask and the people around her. We sat around her bed in silence, not even the crickets of the darkening sky daring to make a sound. Exhaustion pulled at everyone in the room, willing us to close our eyes for a mere three seconds until our bodies gave in to the blanket the darkness that sleep granted. Unable to bear the sounds of heavy footsteps and the wiz of the poorly powered fan, I began to look back on all the memories I shared with this woman. For years, my grandmother’s kitchen counter is the place I went when I needed a safe place from the storm, someone to make me laugh, or simply, a friend. I could sit there for hours, relaxing to the sound of her laugh or throwing my voice in with hers when she would sing an old song I grew accustomed to hearing. For years, she provided long talks and advice that no one else could offer. For years, she was my safe place.

Have you ever had a hero in your life, someone that is always there for you when you need them? I did, I called him "my dad." My dad was the only person that could make me laugh when I was feeling down. My dad was that person who had so much love for his family. My dad was the person who I could call and he'd always pick up. My dad was the person who would drop everything just to help me. My dad was the biggest hero in my life and to this day, still is.

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.

Oh, how mistaken my dad was. I remember him looking down at me, he a towering height of 6’6 and I a height of 3’5, telling me that I wasn’t reading. I remember looking down and getting sad and angry, that I thought I was reading.

The image I have chosen is my grandfather blessing an excerpt from my uncle’s mural in San Antonio. The mural can be seen from the highway on the side of a laundromat. The mural is called “Insomne de Amor” and was finished in 1999, then restored in 2009. All the realistic images on the mural are of my family. When the mural was in the process of being restored, my uncle had staged photos of us taken that he then turned into graphics before they were painted on the wall. The excerpt is of my grandfather wrapping his arms around my sister and I as we look up to him. He is wearing a superman shirt and has the sun haloing around his head radiating light to the rest of the mural. When the mural unveiled to the public there was a ceremony and to end holy water was handed out so those in attendance could bless the mural. A photo was taken my grandfather choosing to bless the faces of my sister and I rather than himself. This picture was the one chosen when an article about the mural was written in the local paper, and is the first result when the mural is searched on the internet. The depiction on the mural and the photo taken at the unveiling is how I know my grandpa to be—selfless and radiating.

All I ever wanted was my Dad to be with me. When I was born my dad was with me since I was 2 years old.When I was growing up at 2 years old I had a stepdad because my mom had left because he had done a lot of bad stuff in his past that can probably affect him in the future. When I was 9 my mom started telling me about my dad and what he has done like, drinking while driving. Then after that she started letting me call my dad on her phone we will just talk about me and what’s going on in school and every time am on the phone with him I always ask if he was ok, and if he's ok then I felt like heaven. But then I heard he was still drinking while he is driving and I was scared I didn’t want him to go jail. Even though my dad did lots of bad stuff I still cared about him and I still loved him.

In the maze of suburban communities that seem to stretch for miles, lays a young city called Maple Valley. Within the confines of this civilization is a house. This house lays on the side of a looping cul-de-sac. It’s outer walls splashed with warm hues of peach and light brown which are complimented with white trim and a cream white door. The dwelling evokes a welcoming sensation as you walk towards the entrance. Softly walking on the stoney step that led towards the entrance, you rap your knuckles on the heavy wood door. With two heavy knocks, Clunk! Clunk! Suddenly you are greeted by a flash of snowy white hair, and a big smile. You could see small wrinkles at the corners, that show he laughs a lot. The man had great blue eyes that show his kind-hearted nature, and wisdom. Whom belongs to who a person i’ve looked up to all my life, my grandfather.

My grandfather’s name was Charles Asa Davis, Jr. He was the son of Charles A. Davis Sr and Lois Lee Loggins Davis. My grandfather grew up in Bradenton, Florida which is about forty-five minutes south of Tampa, Florida. He came from an extensive line of fishermen and was a hard worker by all accounts. As a young man, he learned the art of plastering to better support his family. When building was slow, he would then go on commercial fishing trips for more income. My grandfather which we called him “Papa” was an honest, good, and tough man.

From the moment we found out my sister was pregnant with her first my dad, a kind

The first time I met him it was a hot, humid day in September with the sun blazing down on all four of us. My sister’s face was beaming proudly as she finally introduced us to her new boyfriend as he stepped around the front of his maroon truck. We stood in the large parking lot next to the quarter mile, two story school that Lianna and I went to. He was tall, a bit lanky but also muscular. My first impression doesn’t give him much credit to the man he is today, but he gave a firm handshake and pretended not to notice when Lianna and I gave McKenna looks of approval, which just added to the reasons to shoot McKenna more looks making her blush.