My dad's dad was a really great man. He was a boy scout, he worked in carpentry, he went to church every sunday, he was in the military, he had a farm, He was pretty much the ideal good guy, as some people would call it. When he was alive we didn't get to see him very much because him and my mammaw lived in Indiana. He taught me how to drive a lawnmower, welll he tried, I ran into his RV the first time I got on it. Good thing is, he didn't get mad just laughed. He was always helpful to otehr people in their times of need, and he passed that on to my dad and for that, I really look up to them. In their barn they had all this old stuff that he'd always tell me about. One Halloween I went camping with them and my sister and cousins left the part of the rv I was in and slept in the other room with my grandparents because it was storming, and he came in there with me even though he had to sleep on this table thing instead of a nice bed. And about a year after that he had heart surgery and thats when I realized he had heart problems. It was sad, but he was fine. Until one day he had come by to see my dad, who was busy, and was planning to see us the next day but unfortunately he didn't have time, he was mowing the yard after they came home from Texas, and had a heart attack. I'll never forget when my parents told me or the first time I saw his body in the casket, it was one of the saddest things in my life. It made me question alot, like why do bad people get to live these long lives when this great man's was cut so short. I have to say it did teach me something, to be closer to my grandparents and that's what i've been doing since then.