“Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can never hurt you.” Throughout my life I have wondered if this was true?

When I was five years old I was told that my Grandpa was diagnosed with Parkinson’s and Dementia, at that time I didn’t think much of it. As the years went on he got sicker and sicker. He always looked so helpless, like these diseases had taken over his body. I tried to make him smile every chance I got, because I knew he wouldn’t be around much longer.

The day that I had dreaded for so long came on an ordinary Monday. I was sitting in math class, when the phone rang. Mrs. Morris answered and told me that I was being dismissed. At that moment I knew something was wrong. My mom picked my brother and me up from school and she drove a hundred miles an hour and never took her eyes off the road. She knew that it was important for us to say our goodbyes to my grandpa. We were pulling into the parking lot when my dad called, and I heard him say “ He is gone.” These three words will haunt me forever. At that point I knew the answer to my question.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will always hurt me.”