My Grandpa passed away a little over a year ago. My last memories of him are from my Grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary, of me dancing with him at the reception.
My Grandpa was always happy as far as I remember. When I was 5 or 6 years old, my Grandparents visited us in the U.S. My Grandpa took me to the park down the street. After I finished playing, I wanted to run home for some reason, so I did. I don’t remember if he told me to slow down or not, but he probably did and I obviously didn’t listen. My Grandpa continued to walk and arrived a few minutes after I did, but he didn’t get mad at me. When I told my Mom what I did that day, she scolded me for ditching my Grandpa the way I did. I still remember that.
Before I went to Costa Rica a few years ago, my Mom bought me these sandals. They were the sturdy kind with Velcro straps. I only used them for that trip, and then my Mom made use of them after that. She happened to bring them to the Philippines during one visit. My Grandpa somehow tried them on and he really liked them, and of course my Mom let him keep them. Ever since then, he would always wear those sandals. They became his everyday favorites. We wore the same shoes.
We visited my Grandpa today. My Grandma led our prayers and left flowers on the grave. It still made me cry, even though I barely knew him. I always know that he was kind and generous, and that he grew our family with love.
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