A story is a telescope pointed at the night sky; each star a life undiscovered. My story, a mere gleam in the cluster of incandescence, began with my grandfather. All without having to say a word, he taught the power of love and family, how to be strong, and how to dedicate your life to your dreams. A snowball crashes like a meteorite on the pavement, originating from a condescending grin. "Clean that up, old man," It says. I look out the frosted window and see a group of teenage boys, laughing as my grandfather paves through mountains of snow with a shovel. I recognize their faces. They 're from my school. But I just stood there, my lips sewn shut, eyes creating daggers, hands curled into silent fists. Indifferent, my grandfather continues to plow through the heavy snowfall, aware that if he doesn 't do something about it right away, the pathway will become unrecognizable. In 2011, my grandfather 's doctor diagnosed him with Alzheimer 's Disease. My grandmother 's hushed cries seeped through my bedroom walls- her broken voice red wine, staining the white sheet of my memory. Alzheimer 's Disease is a never ending blizzard; Initially, you can keep your pavement clear, until you …show more content…
"I know you don 't like it here," My grandfather spoke to me under the beaming sun. "But you should always try. Te amo, you will be in my heart until I die." One day, my grandfather 's illness will become more prominent. One day, he will look at me with a stare of obscurity, searching through his mind to find the memory of me, but will find nothing. At any rate, my thirst for education increases, and it 's not only my goal to make him proud while I can, but to reach beyond my potential in ways I never thought I could. Graduating from high school as a scholar and helping the community through volunteer service is a mere step to my success. If pride was to embody a physical form, I can only hope it will transform into my grandfather 's emerald eyes when I tell him I did something