As I recall, it was a dreary morning that fateful day a year ago. I received the news of my Grandfather's passing as I was preparing to begin my daily walk outdoors. The news was delivered to me via a phone call from my Mother. I could sense a very disheartened tone when she spoke to me so I instantly prepared myself for the worst; she told me that Grandpa Francis had suffered a stroke caused by complications of his diabetes but what had ultimatley claimed his life was a brain aneurysm.
My Grandfather was the one whom I felt the closest to since I never had the opportunity to form a relationship with my father's parents due to the fact that both had lived entirely in Europe and had died when I was too young to recall any times spent with them.
I often wondered where my Grandpa's seemingly infinite patience derived from. I certainly don't possess nearly as much tolerance as he so often exhibited but there's not a day that passes by where I don't wish to be like him.
Some will most likely remember my Grandpa as a hardworking individual who endured through a mutlitude of hardships, yet I'll always remember his sensitivity toward others who were less fortunate than him and his words of wisdom he so often imparted upon me. "A smile costs nothing, yet provides plenty."
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