Rough Draft #1

The tears dripped from my eyes after my mom got a call from my dad saying that my Papa had passed away. I was sobbing so much it felt like there was a lake at the bottom of my cheeks.
I got home still crying inside trying to take my mind off of the sad thought. I soon found out that he had died from a terrible case of cancer. Struggling with it months before I tried to hold in the tears but they slowly came through. It was a beautiful summer day and I don't know how anything that sad could have happened. July 17,2004.
Sitting as still and quiet as a log in my room I tried to take my mind off of the sadness. I started to think. When is the funeral going to be? I was to sad to want to know. He was the first of my closest family members to pass away. I heard a big thumping on my door. My mom came in my door. "Are you okay Bailey?"She asked in a very sweet voice. "Yah I'm fine." I told her not telling her the truth. I put my head down on my pillow and settled down for a nap which surely cleared my mind.

I walked into church feeling worse than ever. I say many pictures of him and it made me very sad. I looked around and Is aw my Nana talking with a bunch of my Papa'sn friends. My Aunt walked infront of the whole church and began telling stories about her dad. I was crying every where now using many tissues. From stories that my aunt and dad were telling I started to think of some of my own stories I remembered of him. When we went to Hawaii, him always sitting in his recliner, what a great runner he was. But most of all, the smile he always had on his face.
I couldn't hold it in anymore. It hurt more than ever. I set my head on my mom's shoulder as she comforted me and she whiped my rosey red wet cheeks. All of these pictures of him reminded me of pictures of us. Him holding me as a baby. A picture I still have in my scrapbook. Me and my Papa in a picture hugging at my first soccer game. Unfortunenley he never got the chance to see me play softball at my best. After the service I felt a lot better. Everbody kept coming up to me and saying "Is that your Papa?" And I would happily and proudley answer "Yes."

Five years have passed now. I still think of my Papatime and time again. Seeing a big smile on his face on a picture in my room. But I can still picture him in my head and all the great times we had together.