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The day my grandfather died was actually the saddest day of my life. This is because as a child, I lived with my grandfather. Since I was living with him, my grandfather not only became the most important person in my life, but he was also my best friend with whom I shared my happier times and my sad times. Each time thoughts of my grandfather crossed my mind, I got a warm feeling in my heart, but all that changed the moment I received the saddest news that completely confused me; the news of my grandfather's death. To make things worse, I did not even know that my grandfather was gravely ill because my mom and cousins had chosen not to tell me. I was sitting for my end-of-semester exams around the same time that he became ill. I can still recall that fateful Thursday morning when my cousin arrived at the college's residential hall where I was staying. He did not actually tell me what was happening, but from his hesitant voice, I could tell that something was terribly wrong. About an hour later, my mother also came, and it was she who clearly told me that my grandfather had actually passed away. Even though my mother told me the sad news with a soothing tone, I still did not believe her. I asked them to accompany me to my grandfather's home. The one hour journey to my grandfather's house felt like an eternity. I kept wishing my mother would drive faster and faster towards my grandfather's house. As we headed towards his home, the memories of the many happy moments we spent together kept crossing my mind and as the thoughts kept coming, I could not help but to feel some intense sadness as tears freely rolled down my cheeks. It is only when I got to my grandfather's house and realized that he was neither there to welcome us nor was he anywhere in the house that it truly hit me that my grandfather was indeed dead. Death had robbed me of a true friend. A few days later, the time to hold a mass in honor of my departed grandfather came. My family members, neighbors, and family friends met in the local church where several speakers gave emotional speeches of what they could recall about my grandfather and best friend. Once the mass was over, we headed to the cemetery and found that some men had already made all the preparations for my grandfather's burial. The pole bearers allowed us to have a last look at my grandfather so we could say our last goodbye before burial.
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Introduction
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Body Paragraph
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Conclusion
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Overall Essay
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Narrative Essay on Death
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Narrative Essay On Death

Words: 449    Pages: 2    Paragraphs: 3    Sentences: 21    Read Time: 01:37
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Tips for writing an essay about death: An important point to remember when writing this essay is that one is supposed to write about how death affected the speaker or narrator of the essay. The essay should be organized chronologically, meaning, the order in which events occurred or took place. Furthermore, in an effort to draw the reader in, the writer needs to include what the speaker or narrator of the essay is feeling. Concrete details also help the reader to visualize the events taking place and, thus, to become more engaged.
              The day my grandfather died was actually the saddest day of my life. This is because as a child, I lived with my grandfather. Since I was living with him, my grandfather not only became the most important person in my life, but he was also my best friend with whom I shared my happier times and my sad times. Each time thoughts of my grandfather crossed my mind, I got a warm feeling in my heart, but all that changed the moment I received the saddest news that completely confused me; the news of my grandfather's death. To make things worse, I did not even know that my grandfather was gravely ill because my mom and cousins had chosen not to tell me. I was sitting for my end-of-semester exams around the same time that he became ill.
             
              I can still recall that fateful Thursday morning when my cousin arrived at the college's residential hall where I was staying. He did not actually tell me what was happening, but from his hesitant voice, I could tell that something was terribly wrong. About an hour later, my mother also came, and it was she who clearly told me that my grandfather had actually passed away. Even though my mother told me the sad news with a soothing tone, I still did not believe her. I asked them to accompany me to my grandfather's home. The one hour journey to my grandfather's house felt like an eternity. I kept wishing my mother would drive faster and faster towards my grandfather's house. As we headed towards his home, the memories of the many happy moments we spent together kept crossing my mind and as the thoughts kept coming, I could not help but to feel some intense sadness as tears freely rolled down my cheeks. It is only when I got to my grandfather's house and realized that he was neither there to welcome us nor was he anywhere in the house that it truly hit me that my grandfather was indeed dead. Death had robbed me of a true friend.
             
              A few days later, the time to hold a mass in honor of my departed grandfather came. My family members, neighbors, and family friends met in the local church where several speakers gave emotional speeches of what they could recall about my grandfather and best friend. Once the mass was over, we headed to the cemetery and found that some men had already made all the preparations for my grandfather's burial. The pole bearers allowed us to have a last look at my grandfather so we could say our last goodbye before burial.
Death Essay 
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