as long as I can remember, grandpa has been an old man.

He is so old, as if he had never been young.

He is so old, as if he was born just to be my grandfather.

But I never seriously thought that he would die one day.

I always thought that no matter how old a person is, he can always live for another year, right?

One day, however, he died.

It's like the courtyard wall of a mound.

With more wind and rain, it will collapse one day.

It's gone.

it's over.

I know very little about his life.

He said something, which I can't remember.

It's like he loves me a lot.

I just called him Grandpa.