This man is old and worn. It’s evident in the creases on his face. The spring in his step has long since gone and he his hearing isn’t as good as it once was. Thick, wire-rimmed glasses rest on the brim of his large nose. His stubble covered chin is the same “Noe chin” that’s on my own face without the stubble, of course. One might think that this shows his good years are way behind him, but to me it’s proof that he’s been through the ups and the downs and still came out on top. He got the good times that he wanted out of life and then some. This remarkable man is my grandpa, Robert Maurice Noe. He was born on November 16, 1929. Four children, ten grandchildren and two great-grandchildren have occupied most of his time over the course of his life.
At age 83, his laugh lines are deep and he can still pack a strong punch. He’ll still tease his grandkids about knuckle sandwiches and give us a tap on the arm to make sure we’re paying attention. I can always find him in his brown, suede recliner. When I was younger, I’d hop in his lap the moment I marched through the door. He’s been to the majority of games for every sport I’ve played. At Christmas, he gives the best presents. But my favorite memories with him were our car rides home after school. When I was in middle school, he’d pick up my two sisters, my two cousins and me and take us back to his house until our parents could pick us up after work. We used to tease my littlest sister about how she was always so slow getting to the car. My grandpa came up with the nickname Poke Along for her. I can still remember us doubling over in laughter when he dubbed her with this name. He’s a man of few words, but his love for his family is definitely known by us all. We’re a lot alike in this sense. There is much more to my grandpa than his sense of humor and his ability to care for all of his grandkids.

My grandpa is the strongest man I know. He’s survived many hardships throughout his life and he still finds little reasons to smile. Before I was born, his wife died. Cancer has a cruel way of taking those we love away from us. I don’t know much about my Grandma Patricia, but I do know that it’s her Irish blood that runs through my veins. My hair color is evidence of this. I like to think my grandpa isn’t very lonely. He has his family and friends, but we still can’t replace his wife. Unlike my grandma, he is a survivor of lung cancer. I don’t remember the time he was diagnosed very well, but I do know he never seemed sick. Aside from sleeping more, he kept up the same banter and his smile only got brighter. When we’d try to help him, my grandpa would just wave it off and say he’d get to it. He’s never been one to complain or accept sympathy. I admire how he’ll never make anyone feel like he’s burdening them. My grandpa is also a Vietnam War veteran. These days are a mystery to me as well, but sometimes jokes that he’d rather be eating kidney beans, his primary meal during this period. He’s taught me that no matter what happens to me in my life, the bad times eventually passed. The only way to get through them is to smile and face it head on. Someday I hope to have as much courage and strength that my grandpa possesses.

My grandpa has made a lasting impression on my life. He’s proved to me that life doesn’t get any better than when your family is nearby. Family is the center of his life and I hope that this is something I carry with me through my years. He is living proof that we can live through the rough patches as long as we maintain a good attitude. This man will always hold a special place in my heart.