My biggest hero

My Biggest Hero

If someone asked you who was your greatest hero in life what would your answer be? I don't even have to think of that answer for more than a split second. My biggest hero and inspiration has been my grandfather. His name is Louis Trosclair Sr. He is a man with the most strength that I ever had known.

My grandfather met my grandmother Esther Acosta at a basketball game and they instantly fell in love. My grandma was of great beauty. Beautiful blue eyes, great figure, and a bubbly personality. They married during World War II on April 13, 1942. My grandma was at the tender young age of 17. My grandfather was fighting the war when my grandmother found out she was pregnant. My grandpa was a prisoner of war and was feared dead. Nothing could console my grandmother. She could not stop crying. My grandpa came home from the war and his son was already six months old then. Louis Jr. was a spitting image of his father.

My grandma and my grandpa went on to have eleven children in all. Seven sons and four daughters. He held down sometimes three jobs to support the family. My grandmother stayed home to raise her family. They always had food on the table and never went hungry. My great-aunt and uncle lived next door and helped out greatly with the large family. My grandmother was a wonderful mother and my grandfather was a devoted loving father. They went through many hard times and events such as riding out the eyewall of monster Hurricane Betsy in 1965. The Hurricane almost destroyed their town of Thibodaux, but the family was all together.

Shortly after my grandpa turned 76 years old, he started having problems with his heart. He needed a triple by-pass surgery. It was very risky because of his age. My grandpa pulled through the surgery. But, then he started having massive bleeding around his bladder and we almost lost him. My grandma was a rock to the family at this time. She told him to hold on and to stay strong. He was in the hospital for many months and had a long road to recovery. It is all about family and the love you receive that helps you pull through. We have always been a strong, close knit family.

My grandmother was diagnosed with colon cancer a couple of years later. The tumor was growing inside of her for 5 years and the outlook was not good. She had about 75% of her colon removed, but about 15% they could not get. She seemed to do well with her treatment and the family thought she was going to make it. My grandpa was so strong. Helping her in any way possible when she was so sick from chemo. Then, by a miracle, my grandma went into remission. My grandmother and my grandfather celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary shortly after. It was a day I will never forget. We did a big surprise for the two greatest people in my life. We surprised them with a limo ride to Copeland's. You should of seen the look on my grandma's face! She was so happy! She was all dressed up and she was so beautiful. My grandfather so handsome in his suit and tie. After 60 years, you could still tell how deeply they were in love. The whole family was there. Their 11 children, almost all of their 26 grandchildren and even some of the great-grandchildren. It was definitly a night to remember. We all went through the family photos and talked about all the good times we had. It takes a lot of love and devotion to keep a good marriage for 60 years.

Only about a month after my grandparent's anniversary, we got devastating news. My grandma's cancer was back. She had to get even stronger chemo to fight it. She was now 77 years old and her body simply could not tolerate it. She got very, very sick. We knew my grandma did not want to die at the hospital. She would of wanted to be with her family at home. My grandpa took care of her during this difficult time. He took care of her just the way she took care of him when he was sick. My grandpa cooked her breakfast every morning. Always made sure she had something to eat. My grandmother was a devout Catholic and deeply religious. My grandpa and her would hold hands praying and saying the rosary. The family all took turns staying the night with my grandmother to help my grandfather out. He was so strong. He held it all together. My grandmother loved him so much that she did not want to be away from him even for a second. If he even tried to leave to run an errand, she would beg for him not to go. She knew that if she started to die, that she wanted him by her side. On her last morning on this earth, she was in great pain. My grandfather left and tried to go to the pharmacy to get some morphine. He could not get any and by the time he got back, she had died peacefully in her sleep. She was not alone. She had her son; Keith, by her side.

I wanted to write this story to honor my grandfather. He is now 84 years old. He is my hero, my inspiration. I love him more than anything and I wanted to devote this story to him. My grandfather taught me the value of love and family. I will carry the great love he has for my grandmother, his children and his grandchildren with me for the rest of my life. He is truly the strongest man I know.