1064BC_Hero

1064BC_Hero

My hero would have to be my grandma. Her personality was so vibrant and energetic, I would love to be able to manifest some of her characteristics in myself. My grandma had such a huge influence on my life; since she passed away a little under two years ago, I've spent a lot of time thinking about her and how important she is to me. I looked up to her my whole life and probably looked forward to spending time at her house more than I did at any of my other relatives' houses. As far as my memories reach, I remember getting along extremely well with her, and always being showered with affection and love from her. Grandma's house symbolized love, energy, fun, deliciously prepared Italian dinners, talking around the fireplace when it was Christmas Eve, and swimming in the pool, or journeying to the beach in the summer. I can't remember her every being upset for longer than a few minutes, nor a time she made me upset or was ever frustrated with me. She encouraged and praised everything I did. My grandmother and my grandfather attended every school play I was in, and every school concert I performed in. They never failed to bring me a pink carnation and tell me what an amazing job I had done. And at the times when the store ran out of pink carnations, my grandmother brought me a chocolate rose wrapped in pink and red foil! This didn't change when she bought a house an hour away, nor when she got to an age where she no longer felt comfortable driving back to their house in the dark at 11:00PM. Instead, they took this as a sign to prolong their stay by coming over to sleep over at my house on those nights! Without fail, my grandmother's presence inspired feelings of love, energy, comfort, and safety to everyone around her. On the surface, my grandma probably wouldn't seem to possess qualities that makes her a better selection as my hero than someone like Oprah, who uses her fame to bring public attention to serious issues, and selflessly donates inconceivable sums of money to projects such as starting new school in poor areas. But my grandma represents a more subtle, tacit type of heroism: the strength that it takes to live through every day with grace, optimism, and joy with; the capacity to work her way through problems without losing perspective, and her patience to take whatever life gave her without ever looking back, put her faith in God, and make the best of it. Everyone who met my grandmother loved her. It was impossible not to. I could only hope to conduct my life in a way that lives up to the standard she set, and in a way that would make her proud.

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