My grandfather, who I cared about very much, often read me fairy tales about princesses, dragons and beautiful knights. While I pretended to live in this imaginary, distant land, my grandfather described to me how I was his little princess and being a “troublemaker,” and “rebellious” didn't matter. I've gotten away with a lot of things; he would never haunt me after I broke an expensive piece of art, or when I didn't listen to what my mother said. He was my reason for living. My grandfather was a robust and portly man, who always wore a sombrero for every occasion. Throughout his childhood and culture, it was always customary to wear a sombrero before leaving home. My grandfather had darker green eyes, which scared a person when they stared at him. He also had thick, wavy gray hair and a mustache that distinguished him as both a general and a person of great importance. Although I remember my grandfather's facial and physical characteristics well, I sometimes recall other distressing memories, such as the night he died of emphysema. After her death, I learned to be more responsible, appreciate my mother, be a hard worker, and tolerate challenges. It was a Monday morning when my family received a phone call from my grandmother saying that my grandfather was not feeling well. As soon as we heard the news, we rushed to Mexico, but there was a protest at the International Bridge, which made us late. As soon as we arrived, his time was tragically running out. My mother lamented that my grandfather had died in her arms. After his death, I became weaker as an individual and started blaming God for his death. I often said, “Why God? Why did you take him away?" I would often... middle of paper... and tolerate any challenge, no matter how difficult it may seem. I remember for example when I went with my grandfather to his ranch and we had to clean the stables. It was a rainy day and trying to get the job done seemed difficult. It was full of mud and even though I fell many times it helped me get up and try again spoiled girl, but quite a dutiful young woman. As I think back on this tragic experience, I accept my grandfather's death, but that doesn't mean I would ever forget his facial or physical attributes or the way he read fairy tales in fact that this impact has made me a more fervent and assiduous person. It has given me the opportunity to work harder and endure a challenge, become a responsible young woman and appreciate my mother and everything she has done for me..