My grandfather was a man who valued respect and honesty above all other things. He was one of the few people who never judged but tried to understand others. He was the one person who I trusted unconditionally because I knew he would always be there. I am now sixteen, and I no longer believe that someone can be by your side forever. Because of my grandfather, I came to believe that you should always value those around you before the time comes to say your last farewell.

To this day, I am uncertain of what woke me up one frosty morning. It could have been the buzzing of my alarm clock or the dim streaks of sunlight that were illuminating my room. Whichever it was, it sure did ruin my sweet slumber. I gave one last yawn, and then I reluctantly got out of bed. As I made my way to the kitchen, I was met with an unusual sight. I first noticed the steaming pots then a huge plate of food centered on the dining table. For just about a second, I wondered just how late had I slept in. I shot a quick glance at my watch, and was relieved to discover it was barley 8:30. Now the real question was, “ Why was my mom cooking so early in the morning?” As if she read my mind, my mother soon answered.

“ It’s for your granddad,” she responded as she rummaged through the kitchen looking for another pot.“ I’m making him his favorite food - tamales.”

Her answer took me by surprise. My mother rarely cooked for other people except for her family. However, if there was one person who deserved her cooking, it was my grandfather. His contagious laughter used to make us forget our problems, and his stories used to fill us with new wisdom. Yet, we rarely visited him. That winter day was going to be the first and final time we would ever get to see him again.

Later that day, we carefully made our way up the stairs but suddenly came to a complete stop. We had heard a pair of footsteps coming from above, and we were curiously waiting to see who it was. Surprisingly, it was my grandma and grandpa that appeared around the corner of the stairwell. Even as I recall this, I can still picture the forlorn look in my grandma’s eyes and the sorrow face that my grandfather had.

“Where are you going?” I asked

“ We’re going to the hospital.” My grandmother answered in a soft voice.


I remembered just standing there and looking at them. Being young, I thought that a hospital visit was like a regular checkup. I didn’t take into account the exchanged glances that my grandma and my mother made, and I didn’t notice how my grandfather gave one long, sad look around the house as if he wasn’t going to see it again.

“ Ok. Bye.” That’s the last thing I said to him as they left.

He never ate the food that my mother prepared for him because he died a few days later on Christmas day. Every time I look back to that day, I wish that I could have said more than a simple good-bye. I wish that he would have known how much we appreciated him, and how much we would miss him. I believed he was invincible that not even death could take him. If there is one lesson I learned from this is that no one is invincible. I learned that with each passing second one should show their appreciation to those they love. This way when the last farewell comes, there will be no last regrets and no unspoken words. This is the lesson that I live by. This is what I believe.