My Happy Childhood Memories with Grandpa

Grandpa I dont have a lot of fantastic childhood memories. There are no spectacular family adventures, no unique family projects that teach some sort of lesson and no abnormal holidays. We eat family meals together, but most of the time the children and adults live in two different worlds. The kids go to school, play sports and do homework; the adults work. I am lucky, though. When I want a little of both worlds, I can always turn to my grandpa.

I still remember the weekends on the farm. Sitting in the tractor, going to the little hole in the wall ca and going to the rodeo this is what I did with grandpa. Im not just a kid to him; I am his granddaughter, and I am special.

Grandpa is a small quaint man. He stands a little over five foot two inches and weights a little under one hundred and thirty pounds. He moves with purpose and carries himself with respect. Byrel, is a good man, strong respectable man, all that know him would say so. Even if you dont know him, you could notice his inner strength and self-esteem.

Grandpa isnt a scholar. In fact, he barely made it through high school. He was born on a gigantic farm and being educated wasnt that important. He went to work straight out of high school, and for the past fifty years has been working on the farm roping cattle, selling livestock and farming the land.

When Im with I can be a child yet see through grown-up eye. "You see that tree, squirt", he used to say. "That tree was here before the houses. God put that tree there; man put those houses there. Which one is more beautiful?" if I climbed a tree he wouldnt say "get down". He said" climb it right so you dont fall and get hurt."

"You appreciate what you work for," he always says to me. He teaches this lesson well. He never lets me win at any game; he teaches me to win by learning to lose. If he cant find the answer to a question I ask, he is always honest about it, he says "I dont know but when you find the answer let me know too." He listens to me and hears my feelings not just my words.

Grandpa is nearly sixty-nine years old and still resides on that farm he started to work on fifty years ago. His body is almost fully covered in skin cancer from the long hours in the sun, and gets sicker every year. But to me he is still is the same grandpa he used to be he still teaches me life lessons. Hes still the man who taught his granddaughter to see all things around her with open eyes, the man who taught a child to try something until she wins and becomes the best. He is still special and, thanks to him, so am I.