There was a time in my life where I made bad decisions. I was a young and short fella at the age of 11. In my young age, I was dumb witted, crazy, happy, and just full of life. A lot of my time growing up I was always with my grandparents from my dad's side. This meant that they only spoke Italian and I was forced to try and learn so I could communicate. Most of my days spending time with my grandparents were very boring. All they really did was watch Italian shows and just sit at home.

In the year of 2012, my life went downhill we found out my grandfather was sick or so I thought because I was told this. When I found this out I was in a complete panic because my grandpa was a very important and special person in my life. My grandpa was a happy and fun person to be around. He would always tell stories and make jokes but I couldn’t fully understand him because he spoke Italian. I was a very stubborn little kid because I always told both of my grandparents, “Speak English!”. My dad would always find out whenever I would say that and He would always yell at me and say, “Speak Italian”.

Sadly my grandfather ended up in the hospital and was in there for many weeks. Every day after school I would always go visit him with my mom just so I could see him. Luckily I had great friends to keep my spirits up when he was in the hospital. Over time he started to get better and he got to go home. When he got home I spent less and less time with both of my grandparents and instead hang out with my friends to get my mind off my grandfather.

In late November of 2012, my grandfather was back in the hospital and I still didn't know why because my father wouldn't tell me. Over the time of him in the hospital, I would then go again every day just to see him. Later on in the hospital, the doctor went in to talk to my dad and I never had the chance to hear what was going on at the time. My heart pounding with fear and what conversation they were having. Once they finished talking my dad came in the room and I asked him what happened and he just told me, “Grandpa is coming home” I was excited with joy to hear that he was going to be home. At this time it is December but something strange was happening my grandpa came home but he was in a bed in the living room with stuff hooked up to him. I was confused I thought he was doing better but I never questioned to ask my dad because I knew he wouldn't have told me.

Worried sick to my stomach I always went to go visit my grandfather at home just to see him and say hi to him with my parents we would go every day until that fateful night. One night I decided to go hang out with my friends to go play basketball instead of going to see my grandpa. At that night I regretted everything. It was like my whole life changed. As I called my mom to come to pick me up the first thing I asked her when she got into the car was, “How is Grandpa doing?” and there was a silent pause and then she told me, “I'm sorry honey but Grandpa died…” My whole life went blank and I couldn't believe what happen. My heart just broke and in disbelief at what I had heard she asked me if I wanted to go see him and I told her yes. As I walked to the door and as it opened I saw him laying there lifeless on the bed and hearing my dad say to my mom, “I told you not to bring him here.” I remember sobbing next to his bed feeling his cold hands and regretting to go play basketball instead of saying my goodbye to him. My dad then called all of my three brothers over to the house and as they came through the door their faces were just in shock of seeing him lifeless. Twenty minutes later the paramedics came to take him away. As I and my three brothers sit there on the couch crying and seeing him being taken away from us we talked about how much of a happy guy he was and how much we are going to miss him.

Later on, throughout my life, I asked my father what was the truth behind why my grandpa had died. He told me, “Your grandfather didn't feel right. He told me if he couldn’t take care of himself he didn't want to live anymore.” My dad kept on going and said, “You know son I used to take care of him. I use to wipe his ass for him.” As he started to go to the hospital he told my dad he didn't want to be hooked up to any machine and that's why he decided not to eat. He wanted to die inside of his own home and so then he starved to death. I had so much regret my whole entire life since he was gone because I never had the chance to say goodbye and also not being able to have a conversation with him in Italian. Ever since his death I go see him once a while at his grave just to say hello to him. My grandfather was my best friend my dad had always told me,  “He did everything with you” and I was so overwhelmed with tears knowing that. Since I had this regret I made my decision to spend as much time with my grandmother and speak to her in Italian and have conversations with her to ask her what my grandfather was actually like. Some decisions lead to regrets but it's only the choice you make to move on and become a better person.