My grandfather, William Meyers, impacted everyone's life. Especially mine. He was a remarkable man. He was always very strong and prideful since he was a lawyer and a Marine. I don't think I will ever meet anyone like him. He truly was one of a kind. My grandfather also had a huge heart and cared about so many people, no matter what they thought of him.

After Hurricane Katrina, my grandparents moved from Delisle, Mississippi, and bought my old house in Covington. I have eleven other cousins on my dad's side, but my dad, mom, and I live closest to my grandparents. Since we lived so close, we saw them much more than anyone else in our family. After my grandparents moved here, for my dad, it meant he would be the one in the family to take the most care of my grandparents, which of course, he didn't mind. After my grandparents living in my old house for eight years, and my grandparents about to reach their 90s, they moved into Christwood. But before they moved, all of my dad's brothers and sisters had a 90th birthday party for my grandfather.

This birthday party for my grandfather occurred way before his birthday, but only because we weren't sure if he was going to make it, which he didn't. This birthday party happened in early November, and my aunts and uncles, and parents, made it very special and only invited his closest friends and family that were still alive. We had his very favorite meals and celebrated him to the fullest extent. We went around the room and told funny stories that we remembered about him, and his favorite phrases and all that fun stuff. My favorite part of this event, was when my dad stood up and thanked my grandfather for never giving up on him, even in the hardest times. Throughout this whole event he looked so happy, he shot me a smile at one point during this party, and this was a once in a lifetime kind of chance, because he was one of the guys who doesn't particularly know how to smile. It was awesome to see him so happy and see our whole family laughing together. I think his birthday party was the last happy moment we had together, because after that everything went downhill.

In late December my grandparents moved to Christwood, and for the entire month of January I didn't really see my grandparents that much because I was so "busy" with school work and cheerleading. During the beginning of the month of February, my grandfather slowly started to wilt away. What I mean by wilt away, is that my grandfather became skinnier (because he couldn't eat), and so much more frail, because all he did was lie in bed or sit in a chair. My grandfather then moved from living in a small apartment at an old folks home with my grandmother, to living in the part of an old folks home that is pretty much a hospital, and that's when you know someone is about to die. I thought for sure, that my grandfather would be fine and so I never took the time to visit him, but also because I am not a strong enough person to face someone who is in the hospital. When I see the person in the hospital, I automatically start to cry.


If you have figured this out yet, you know that I haven't seen my grandfather in a little over a month by this time. Of course my dad has been with him, from the second he gets off of work, to the time he has to go to bed. Obviously my dad asked me if I wanted to go visit him and of course I did want to go, i just didn't think I could handle it, which I was correct. The last time I saw my grandfather, is around the twelfth of February. My dad had asked me if I wanted to visit him, and of course I said I wanted to, but I just couldn't. Because then it would be real, this would really be happening. This time was different. My dad forced me to go visit him. This scared me, this made me feel like it was pretty much the end of the line.

My dad drove us to Christwood, which is right by my house. When we arrived, I got out of the car and walked towards where his room is, then opened the door to walk inside. I braced myself before I entered his room, where I can feel sadness living there, and am astonished at what he looks like. He was laying there asleep with oxygen tubes in his nose and he kept on moving in his sleep, this was not the strong Marine I remember. He woke up, and I stood next to the bed, and greeted him. I said hello, Daddy Bill! He could not talk, but gave me as much of a smile he could give which is a very subtle one, and grabbed hold of my hand and squeezed it with all his might. He couldn't talk, so this was his way of telling me I love you. At this moment, I never wanted to let go. I never wanted to let go, because I thought if I let him go he was really going to leave. Of course, this wasn't the case, but when I let go, I felt I was about to start crying...a bunch. Since I felt the tears about to start streaming down my face, I walked out of the room, and let the overwhelming rush of sadness swallow me whole. I knew that was the last time I was going to see my grandfather and knowing that, seriously hurt me. Following me out of the room, was my dad and uncle. My uncle and dad started talking about funeral arrangements, which made me cry even harder. I wondered why they would talk about that in front of me when they knew how fragile I was already feeling. I remember this day like the back of my hand. Sometimes I think about why it sticks with me for so long. I think it's because God knew I was going to want to hold onto the last memory I have of him. One of the last times my dad got to see him, my dad told me that Daddy Bill would not want to be remembered this way so please don't remember him like this, but I just can't let it go. He also told me in one of his last visits, that he could feel that his father's soul was parting his body.

My grandfather passed away early in the morning on February 19th, 2013 with no one by his side. That's the way he wanted to go. My grandfather had so much pride, that he would hold onto to this suffering world, so that he went away alone.

February 19th was the day of Sweetheart this year, and it was also the day of the SPS pep rally, where I had to perform. I went to school that day, praying that my grandfather would be okay. I had no idea that anything had happened to him until after I performed at the pep rally and my dad picked me up. I jumped into his car right after we were done performing so I could go get ready for Sweetheart. I asked him how Daddy Bill was, and he told me the news. At that moment, it felt like there was a twenty pound weight in my chest, and I could feel myself on the verge of balling my eyes out. I couldn't believe it, this moment didn't feel real. I thought I was in a nightmare, and I needed to wake up, but sadly that wasn't the case. I let it all out till I couldn't cry anymore. It was the worst thing someone has ever told me. It hurt so much knowing I would never see his face again, or be able to talk to him, or hug him, or anything ever again. That night, I decided to go to Sweetheart, because I needed to get my mind off of it. I think this was very selfish to do, now that I look back on it, because my dad's heart was almost broken by the death of his father. I felt so bad for my dad and grandmother both, because they were so close to him, and they were his best friends.


Whenever you lose someone you are close to, it is like losing a part of yourself. It is as if all the memories shared with that person are gone, and never to be found again. Like, apart of you has died with that person. It was overwhelmingly hard for me to lose my grandfather, but even though I lost something, I also gained something. I gained wisdom. I gained wisdom in knowing that time is precious. People are precious. We need to spend time with the people we love, and not to make excuses about it, but make the most of the little time we have on this earth, with the people we love.