November 11th, 2012
The coldest days of December
I do not seem to remember very many memories from my childhood. The memories that I do recall seem to be mostly unpleasant. My most vivid childhood memory would have to be when my grandfather John Starr passed. It was the coldest three days of December I ever experienced. The first day started as any other day that was until the phone rang. My mother answered the phone, but something was wrong because the only two words that she said were hello and okay. This was unusual for my mother who could talk a mile a minute. I could also tell by the look on her face that it was not good news that came from the other end of the call. My mother looked at me and said “Get dressed quickly”. I began to wonder what it could be as I quickly got dressed. Then we rushed to the car and pulled out of the drive in a hurry. I looked at my mom as we started to drive and asked “Where we are going?” She replied, “It is your grandfather, we need to go see him.” We pulled up to my grandparents’ house and my mom tried to prepared me for what I was going to see. She explained, “The person on the phone was your grandma. The reason your grandma called was because your grandfather is asking for you.” I thought to myself what is going on. I knew that my grandfather had been diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis which is also known as "Lou Gehrig's Disease," but when he told us he said he had a year left at least. When we walked in the front door I saw what was left of my grandfather in his recliner. The ALS had taken my once plump, handsome, and happy grandfather and turned him into nothing but skin and bones. I knew he was sick but was not expecting to see him this way. I burst into tears and walked passed him into the kitchen. In the kitchen my grandma which was wearing her nightgown as usual approached me and explained, “You need to go talk to your grandfather he was asking for you.” I glanced into the living...