Personal Narrative-Changing Event

Greg
Perfection exudes from a graveyard. Thousands of tombstones are lined up to the nearest tenth of an inch. There is the greenest grass and beautiful flowers that go on for miles. The perfection is unsettling for what this place is all about. I had to think of my speech for Greg, who passed away last week due to a skydiving accident. I couldn’t find the right words for him as I’ve been stuck in my head and couldn’t think straight ever since his passing. I noticed that all these tombstones have two numbers, and a dash.
A dash in which a man’s whole life resided. It lays in between two years and encapsulates everything there is to know about the person underneath their grave. This dash is what makes you visit them after their passing, what
I had average grades but was an All-American wrestler on my high school team. In my weight class I made my way to regionals, states, and eventually won nationals and was ranked top ten in the state of Maryland. After winning I spoke to a reporter and spoke about the match, the preparation leading up to it, and my mentality as a wrestler. A man approached me after the interview and complimented me on my match but was more impressed with how I handled myself after. “You’re a great wrestler and speak very eloquently and with respect.” This man then asked me about my grades and family life. I told him that I didn’t have any parents and that my grades were decent. He told me that he was a scout for West Point in New York and handed me his card. He said goodbye and once again complimented my performance. Without much guidance or direction for what I wanted to do with my life, I called him up and spoke about West Point and all it entails. I decided this was the best option for me and I pursued it. A year later, I began school in West Point where I met Greg who took me under this
Greg had a smile that made you believe in yourself, one that everyone loved to see. He had green eyes and a chiseled face; everyone looked up to Greg standing at 6’1. He was a real family man although he was never married. At the bar I asked him how his dogs were doing and he laughed as he told me how his oldest one Quest got sick and now his youngest puppy Buster cries every night. He then lightened the mood with a joke about how the only reason Buster cries is because she gets more attention than him now. I chuckled a bit as I scratched my chin. Two blondes came our way and approached Greg flirtatiously. Within two minutes he had them laughing and being a gentleman, Greg bought them both drinks. Greg’s personality came with an aura that was inescapable. Never giving off bad energy, Greg was the only person I ever met that always had positivity radiating constantly. Even in times of intense struggle, he was there to lend a hand, or in my case, save a