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怀念我的爷爷作文篇1
指尖滑过白杨粗糙的树皮，心中回想的却是爷爷的手掌，同样的厚实、心安。
小时候，我总是抓着爷爷的手睡觉。抓住了，就不再放开。我在黑暗中，一点一点地分辨爷爷手心的纹路。“我给你讲个故事吧？”故事讲得很慢，几乎是一字一顿地续着。夜静极了，我能听到风摩挲过树叶的声音。故事的内容我已经不记得了，只记得，一次又一次，我翻了个身，就迷迷糊糊睡着了。
大点了，我便牵着爷爷的手到处跑。每当跑得累了，爷爷就会用手把我抱起，一步一顿地走，走得很慢。在杨树的叶影下，我一点点感受爷爷掌心的温度，踏实，平实，温暖。透过树叶播洒下来的阳光，我已经忘了个干净，只记得我望着白杨粗陋的树皮，爷爷望着我。
在白杨的荫蔽下，我感受着一年四季的的温度。望向白杨，它的树皮，在十年的风雨中更加厚重了。偶一回头，那慈和的笑脸，却在十年的风雨中不再。闭上眼，伸出手，触摸树皮，感受每一道纹路。同样的抚摸，却不再有曾经的故事，只有风摩挲过树叶的声音。
那辆三轮车，爷爷以前常骑着它，带我四处去玩。透过塑料的小窗，我看到了三轮车以外一切的美好，新奇，新鲜。车子就停在白杨树下，这是爷爷的`习惯。车子依偎着白杨树，白杨密密匝匝的枝叶笼罩着车子。就像我和爷爷。
年幼的我，就这么坦坦荡荡地享受着爷爷带给我的惬意和自由。我牵着爷爷的手，爷爷总在我身旁。可那些触手可得东西，今天竟变成了再也无法触及的回忆。
我在白杨树下，细细触摸着它粗糙的枝干，感受并品味每一寸的经络。就像触摸爷爷的大手，感受爷爷掌心的纹路。爷爷已经不在了，可他的爱，却如白杨一样，扎根在土地里，埋藏在我心间。
我用指尖，细致地努力地分辨着白杨的树皮，就像触摸爷爷的爱。
怀念我的爷爷作文篇2
夕阳的余晖在指尖没落，悲怆得如同一次庄严的血色祭奠，挽歌于殇。在爷爷逝世的那天黄昏，我匆匆地赶回家乡，车站处看见那样残缺又磅礴夕照，沉甸甸地在我心头落下，一如爷爷的死讯。
终究，还是没能让他再见我……
泪水从我眼角滑落的刹那，我忆起小时候。曾经，我指着上弦月不满地问：“为什么月亮不圆?”曾经，我指着被秋风卷落的长街枯叶不甘地问：“为什么绿叶会枯?”爷爷也曾笑答：“因为它们要美丽啊。”
那时的我，并不懂为什么是这个答案。现在，爷爷的遗照就在眼前，他是笑得那样慈祥，似乎只是在那泛着木香的长盒子里安静地睡着了。“是的，它们要美丽啊。只有残缺的遗憾，才能融化自古文人墨客的情思，让他们写出或感伤悲悯或磅礴庄严的诗歌如画。”
我轻轻地笑了，指尖埋没进浅浅的祭烟犹如秋蝶。“人有悲欢离合，月有阴晴圆缺，此事古难全。”我曾在课业里背过东坡的这首《水调歌头》。彼时的我，眸里倒映的只有“学习和成绩”，看不透千年前诗人的情感，品不了千年前月圆月缺时遗憾的旷远美丽。月无华，心亦冷。若月掩下光华，谁的心才会真正地冰凉?我以为的不眠夜，最后的最后，还是在火车的哐当声中在梦境里远去。因为我觉得，和爷爷的错过，是一种遗憾，也是一种美丽，梦里能相见。
“叶的离开，是风的追求，还是树的不挽留?”诗集浸湿了泪意，爷爷的离去是上天注定的吗?我没有挽留住答案，毕竟不同于秋叶飘零，曼珠沙华在爷爷身上绽放时，我不幸又幸运地没有看见。这是一种对我心灵的完美呵护。
怀念我的爷爷作文篇3
放学铃刚刚响起，我就迫不及待地冲出了教室。走在回家的路上，我无心欣赏路边的美景，同学的打闹也引不起我的兴趣。我只想快点回到家里——————爷爷已经卧床不起好几天了，而且吃不下任何食物，只有我给他喂水时他才微微抿一点。
当我一阵风似的扎进家门时，迎面就看见了哭泣的妈妈。我愣住了，妈妈把我一把揽进了怀里：“芳芳，爷爷走了，你再也没有爷爷了……。”我一下子蒙了，脑中一片空白。不知什么时候，我被妈妈拉进了上房里，地上支着一块木板，爷爷就静静地躺在上面，身上穿着早已为他准备好的全新寿衣，脸上覆盖着一张黄纸……我跌跌撞撞扑过去，揭开了覆盖在爷爷脸上的黄纸，只见爷爷一脸安详，像睡着了一样。我不由自主地叫了一声：“爷爷——”可是没有听到爷爷亲切地回应。我突然明白了——爷爷真的走了，我没有爷爷了……我再也控制不住自己，嚎啕大哭了起来………
握着爷爷粗糙的手，却再也感受不到它的温暖，凝望着爷爷平静的脸，那上面写满了沧桑和爱。亲爱的爷爷，您走了，我再也得不到您的关心了，再也得不到您的爱抚了。十几年来，爸爸妈妈一直在外打工，您既要忙农活、操持家务，还要每天风里来雨里去，接我上下学。您自己舍不得吃好一点、穿好一点，对我却百依百顺，照顾得无微不至。
爷爷，您这样细心地照看我，可我却连一句感恩的话都没有对您说过，您更没有对我一丝的责备。可仅仅就是您病重的这几天我给你喂了一点点水，您就逢人便夸我是个孝顺、懂事的好孩子。现在，我突然从您身上感悟到了亲情的无私与伟大，我们每一个人都应有一颗善良的心、感恩的心。可是，孙女明白得太迟了，孙女还没来得及报答您，您就这样匆匆离去了，是孙女醒悟得太迟，是孙女不孝。
爷爷，孙女想您！您回来吧！
怀念我的爷爷作文篇4
那天，军训完了的我回到学校，妈妈来接我，我突然感觉不对，我问怎么了？妈妈说没事，一路上，沉默，代替了所有环境，回到家，妈妈说，爷爷去世了。
我裤子穿上后，直接跑去爷爷家，我们与爷爷家不远，院子里，三个花圈写着：沉痛哀悼谭永录老人去世。我跑进来，看到了灵堂，遗像，我懵懂了，这，这是真的吗？我的眼泪留下来了，手里拿着军训奖状与勋章的手掉了下来，妈妈替我请了假，我“通”的一声跪在前面，双腿无力，我躺到床上，留着眼泪睡着了……（想骂我骂吧，我真的太累了，五天没睡觉了请读者原谅）
第二天早上，家里来了许多人，奶奶一晚上没睡觉，我哭着说“如果我不去军训陪着爷爷多好！”可事实不能改变一切，坐上灵车，抱着爷爷的遗像，不争气的眼泪流了下来，到了乌鲁木齐市殡仪馆，我早已泣不成声，送完爷爷，我哭着坐车回家了……
第二天，我带着孝，来到教室，听见他们说我家死人了，我冲过去一把拽住他的领子，他继续说，我把他摁在地上打了一顿，我发狂了，我竟不知道哪来的力量，班里8个男生拉我，全被我撂倒了，我学过散打，他们不是我的对手，事后，老师让我道歉，我一句话不说，老师最后来了一句“你要不说，我让你爸爸带你回家！”结果，我来了一句“回就回，我不怕，他该。”老师气的无语了，让我下次注意，新来学校的我，刚上初中，就打架。我不管了，班里同学知道我发狂了，但没料到会这么大，要知道，我军训时软弱的像小鸡仔一样，通过这件事，他们开始敬佩我……
爷爷，我一看到一放学，爷爷接孙子时，两行热泪掉了下来。
爷爷我想你了你在那边想我吗？
怀念我的爷爷作文篇5
when memory began for me, my grandfather was past sixty-a great tall man with thick hair becoming gray. he had black eyes and a straight nose which ended in a slightly flattened tip. once he explained seriously to me that he got that flattened tip as a small child when he fell down and stepped on his nose.
the little marks of laughter at the corners of his eyes were the prodnct of a kindly and humorous nature. the years of work which had bent his shoulders had never dulled his humour nor his love of a joke.
everywhere he went, "gramp" made friends easily. at the end of half an hour you felt you had known him all your life. i soon learned that he hated to give orders , but that when he had to, he tried to make his orders sound like suggestions.
one july morning, as he was leaving to go to the cornfield, he said : "edwin, you can pick up the potatoes in the field today if you want to do that. " then he drove away with his horses.
the day passed, and i did not have any desire to pick up potatoes. evening came and the potatoes were still in the field. gramp, dusty and tired, led the horses to get their drink.
"how many bags of potatoes were there?" gramp inquired. "i don't know. "
"how many potatoes did you pick up?"
"i didn't pick any. " "not any! why not?"
"you said i could pick, them up if i wanted to. you didn't say i had to. "
in the next few minutes i learned a lesson i would not forget: when gramp said i could if i wanted to, he meant that i should want to.
gram hated cruelty and injustice. the injustices of history, even those of a thousand years before, angered her as much as the injustices of her own day.
she also had a deep love of beauty. when she was almost seventy-five, and had gone to live with one of her daughters, she spent a delightful morning washing dishes because, as she said, the beautiful patterns on the dishes gave her pleasure. the bird, the flowers, the clouds-all that was beautiful around her- pleased her. she was like the father of the french painter, millet, who used to gather grass and show it to his son , saying , "see how beautif ul this is ! "
in a pioneer society it is the harder qualities of mind and character that are of value. the softer virtues are considered unnecessary. men and women struggling daily to earn a living are unable, even for a moment, to forget the business of preserving their lives. only unusual people, like my grandparents, manage to keep the softer qualities in a world of daily struggle.
such were the two people with whom i spent the months from june to september in the wonderful days of summer and youth.
怀念我的爷爷作文篇6
he always rose early to enjoy at least two hours of solitude in the house and garden before the rest of the family came down in winter he spent most of the time reading and writing. in sum mer he liked to get out of doors to work in the kitchen garden or to take the dog for a walk in the neighbouring woods and fields whatever the weather, there was plenty to occupy him.
although he was a creature of habit, there seemed to be an infinite variety in his pursuits. he wrote book reviews regularly for two of the national weeklies. he worked conscientiously his special subject, indian history, and was thus one of the world authorities on it;
he collected modern abstract paintings and so had a circle of friends amongst artists and sculptors; there was hardly anything he did not know about traditional jazz and he often entertained both british and america n jazz musicians he was a superb cook and knew a lot about french and german food.
his family adored him and in a sense he was spoiled by them. at first glance you would have taken him for a retired army officer-his bearing was erect, his hair was cut short, he was fussy about his clothes, which were always neat, clean and conventional. he liked to keep fit, and this was reflected in his clear, steady blue eyes and healthy suntanned complexion. he hardly ever watched tv, but enjoyed a good film and an occasional evening at the theatre.
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