There is no one like you, my grandfather. There is a person who embodies all
virturdes that I adore, admire and aspire to achieve. This person is
my grandfather. His virtues grew into it and others were
made up childhood and difficult experiences in your life. He was
so patient, generous in every way, with his hugs, his words
and parental support, and with an open heart and tender. What
was romantic with my grandmother! On February 27, 1946, asked the
hand. He gave her an engagement ring and 27 June of that year,
married. Each day, a month after the February 27, my grandfather
sent him flowers, red roses and chocolates to my grandmother.
My grandfather was honest, religious, traditional and had the virtues of
honesty, integrity and honor. He had a great sense of
morality, loyalty to his family, his religion and his country. Was
in the Second World War and was sergeant major of a brigade to
Cape Breton (CBH, Cape Breton Highlanders). He struggled a lot in Italy and
helped in the liberation of Holland in 1945. He returned with the medal
Canadian for your efficient service (MS), a decoration
wanted in front of his name. However, no one knew who had
returned with a spirit broken by the tragedies of war.
There is an innocence between a grandfather and a granddaughter who is a
special relationship that binds them. My grandfather raised me and taught me the great
meaning of honesty and integrity. It was only
who understood my music, my passion. He listened while my piano
other relatives demanded another song or talking. I could commit
many mistakes and still, he listened attentively. To him,
loved my music. He asked me a disc of music from my piano, but
I never did before or after your illness because I wanted
make a perfect record. Perfection never exists. I regret
not doing his album, but I will do it and put it in his grave.
Our link is impenetrable.
He spoiled me with his love. Whenever I read stories of Mother Goose.
Every day, I wore to school. He taught me the game,
"Scrabble" and talked politics for hours of his childhood. He spoke of his
childhood and prejudice suffered by the color of their skin Romania.
I had nightmares of the war he had and that neither my mother nor
never knew my uncles. Laura was always his, at Easter, the
favorite holiday, we went to church to pray before the
Stations of the Cross. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy
holy, what God bless you.
My grandfather knew more than I thought, and I understand, such
time, more than he knew. However, over time,
our roles changed. I had to massage the front of my
Grandpa instead of him, massaging mine. Two years ago I've
been missing. He asked me one day if you always accept and
want. I promised him I loved him, accept him forever, but
also hate the pain he had suffered. In the name of the father,
Son and Holy Spirit, I promise to accept, grandfather, in each
manner.
The shadows have lived near me, I have been persecuted and have stolen a
element of my soul. Diseases, meningitis and pneumonia,
betrayed my grandfather. He was taken away from me. I feel that I have
lost my grandfather when he was about serious symptoms. I told my
family should take him to hospital, but nobody heard me. A
Sometimes I feel guilty and I think my grandfather would have now if I
would have been more insistent with my family, and would have led to
hospital myself.
Three weeks ago he played fine hair and massage. I gave her kisses
and rested my head on the pillow near her head. I held my
Grandpa in my arms so he could vomit the poison
inside. I grabbed his hand and hugged him hard. Would massage
cheeks and hands as he looked at me with eyes
despair, glassy and overwhelming, calling "Mama". I sat
front of his bed, praying to God to comfort my grandfather,
while the dark room was filling up his heavy breathing,
his last breaths and moans long, endless. I could not
eat or drink, and yet I thought he would live forever. You
DI water with a spoon until my grandfather asked me not, or to
the water dripped and ran down his chin because he could not
-Was that he simply could not.
He was very proud and never admitted his anxiety. However, two nights
before you go to Heaven, my grandfather whispered, "It hurts,
Laura ... It hurts a lot. Oh, Laura. "He called me like
nurse or God. With anguish, my little girl begged her grandfather to
his affection. He who had been strong for her, now needed its
force. Only I could tell he knew it hurt. I held back in
tell him that everything was fine. Those were the words of death.
I told my grandfather that it hurt, the pain was horrible and I
I hated the pain. I kissed this night to rest.
My grandmother took my grandfather home to die. With a shriek
Creepy my mother, I realized that two days earlier, had
kissed goodbye to my grandfather. The angels had taken their
rest in Heaven. He fought until his death when, out of his room
as a station of the cross, I saw only her legs, covered by
a blanket, co-lifeless body. Death is so cruel.
After an hour of fear, I closed my eyes, I entered his room, he
I touched her hair, kissed his left cheek, wetting his face with my
tears. A smell of incense in the air breathed, the smell of
incense of a death, a soul going on.
There was my grandfather, proud as ever, had been afraid
death that confronted her. He wore a navy blue suit and had
firmly grasped the rosary in his hands. His expression was more
majestic calm, still struggling to be strong, fighting
for life. It was his face as I kissed her. His medals, hat
of his battalion and a crucifix were placed on him. Were
three symbols of his life: loyalty, integrity and kindness. Some
flags were standing majestically on either side of his coffin. In the
ceremony, family and put some eighty veterans poppies
in white bed of my grandfather.
I chose a bunch over to the coffin, about five dozen roses
white and delicate, with white ribbons and white blossoms
tiny. The bouquet of white roses represented the purity of
love of my grandfather for my family, purity in his words, the
purity of his soul, and the pure innocence of the link between my grandfather and
