Today is the year-day for the death of my grandfather. I’m both sad, angry, and thankful. When he died, I lost the positive father figure, he was more than a grandfather to me. And it makes me angry that he was the one to die and not my biological father. I’d much rather see him dead than my grandfather. But I’m also thankful to my grandparents, for all the good times, for all the positive input we received. For their great importance in making our lives better. If it hadn’t been for my grandparents, I don’t know if we (me and my siblings) would’ve made it the way we have. It was of unvaluable importance to have a pair of grandparents telling us how much we meant to them, showing us how happy we made them, and so on. Being with them was like paradise compared to the terror at home.
The most important thing my grandfather thaught me was this: Everytime I packed my bags after visiting, and I was alone in the room, he would enter and talk to me. And he always said that if I did my best (for example at school) no-one could be unsatisified with me. He said it very quietly. Looking back I can see that he said this to strengthen me, because he knew my father. And he was always content with my school results. As opposed to the father I grew up with, who was always unsatisified and asked me what I could have done to make it better next time. Eventhough I got the second best grade!
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