I would love some feedback on my College admissions essay for Temple University

here is the prompt: Please tell us more about yourself. Relate one or more experiences or circumstances that have contributed to your personal and/or academic development. If you have been out of school for a year or longer, please discuss your activities during that period of time.

Life’s Battlefield
It’s been a year and 2 weeks, yet it seems as if it were only yesterday. Reliving each day, the pain and heartbreak I went through upon hearing the news. It was a cool September evening after coming home from an exhausting shift at UNO’s Chicago Bar and Grill. I was tired and frustrated, and decided to ask my friend Susie if she wanted to sleepover, we always have fun and I needed to blow off some steam. We had gotten home around 10 pm that Saturday night and Susie and I had decided to try to write some music. As we tried and tried we just couldn’t get anywhere, so we decided to venture to my kitchen to get some grub. I had fought with my mom on the car ride home, about something that looking back is very vague. As we were sitting in the kitchen I remember hearing my dad call my name. My dad was always the mediator between my mom and I’s disputes. He said that he and Mom wanted to see me in their room, alone. Walking up the stairs my heart was pounding, I thought I was getting a consequence for my bad behavior with my mother. When I walked in the room I saw my mom pacing back and forth and I knew immediately something was up. They told me to sit down, that there was something I needed to hear. Mom started off, “Grandpa went to the Hospital again tonight.” she said. He had been to the hospital a couple times prior and I didn’t think it was anything serious. My grandfather was a survivor, whatever it was; he would get through it, that’s how it was with him. He had the heart and soul of a racehorse, which is ironic as he had been a horse manager all over the United States. All up until the cancer set in, that is. I guess it was expected though after fifty two years of smoking. I was determined he would be okay, as I had just seen him two weeks prior. He was doing just fine, he had just started Kimo therapy, and had at least another year left. When I had last seen him he was his normal self, a burly man, with a gentle smile. Rough on the outside, yet soft on the inside, I guess fighting a war may have that kind of a toll on one’s exterior, You know, make them skeptical of humanity, and the trust of another. When you’ve faced the extremities of war, and its losses, and you’ve become vulnerable, what have you to control? I guess that’s how my grandfather’s mindset was, yet he was a lover, not a fighter. He had been through trenches, seen his own comrades be destroyed, and even gotten stabbed with a bayonnette. My grandfather was a true hero, and could take on the world, or so I thought. When I had last seen him in Florida was right after my mother told me that he had been diagnosed with lung cancer. I was beside myself but she had told me that it wasn’t that serious, although with cancer I guess there’s no saying. When we had gotten to Florida he had been sitting on his sofa in front of his flat screen TV with his headphones on and his oxygen by his side. Typical Grandpa. I was happy to see him, although he had lost some weight. It didn’t take long for me to figure out what was going on. Lining the kitchen table was an assortment of pills and various medications. Each for something different, yet the same, breathing. He had had emphazema, COPD, and even double pneumonia. But being the fighter he was, he got through all of them. We reminisced for a while then spent the night at my uncle’s house. Before leaving I caught my grandmother in shambles. She had had enough. She was tired of worrying about him. Everyday seemed as though it was a struggle, and stress. It wasn’t till then that I realized the severity of the situation. We consoled her and told her it would all be alright, as she apologized for breaking down. My grandmother was and still is a fighter, with the heart of a lion, so to see her break down like this, was a rare occasion and must be serious. In the proceeding days, we had plenty of fun, and took my grandfather everywhere. He wanted to get out of the house and go somewhere fun, and we had a rental car. I’ll never forget him riding through Wal-Mart on one of those motor scooter carts. We were happy. I to see him, he to see me, and the whole family for being together. The following couple days were tricky; he had had a couple scares, but was just being nervous about his situation. Up until the fifth day, when we had to make the call to 9-1-1. He had been feeling cold, and had a temperature, and wasn’t himself. He thought he was having a heart attack. As we rushed out with the EMT’s and proceeded to the hospital, the weight of the world set in. I was scared for what was about to happen. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing him, but I thought at least I’d have been there with him in his last moments. It took them a while for him to get a room in the hospital, after determining that he would have to stay there overnight. He was grumpy, like it said on the hat I had bought him one year at Disney World. He wore that hat every day. I could tell it meant the world to him. But he was about to endure something very big. We stayed with him until the early hours of the morning. Me, trying to entertain him, and my mom and grandmother trying to figure things out and get him situated. As he was admitted to the ICU, worry and panic set in. I was concerned but I knew he was where he needed to be. When we left the hospital I asked my mom if she thought he would be okay. She responded “Grandpa’s a fighter Kate, He’ll make it through this.” Going to visit him was somewhat scary at first but fun once I knew he had good friends around him. One day while we were visiting, I saw he had been wearing a yellow bracelet that said “Fall Risk” on it. I was startled; he had had no trouble getting around. But regardless I thought it looked neat, and jokingly stated “Grandpa, you gotta get me one of those” and we laughed. The next day when I came back he had been reading one of his books. When I asked about it, he jumped to his feet and said “hand me that book”. I did as I was told and he said “I got something for you” When I got closer he told me to hold out my wrist. When I did, I saw he had gotten me one of the “Fall Risk” bracelets and was trying to put it on me. When he finally got it on I smiled, and laughed, and then thanked him. He pointed to me smiling, and said to my mother with a smile on his face “See that, right there? I love it when she does that.” I will never forget that moment, and have not taken that bracelet off to this day. He got home from the hospital two days before we had to go back home. I tried to spend every minute with him as I was unsure whether I’d see him again, but in the end I was still in denial. Before leaving I gave him a kiss on the cheek, and said “I love you Grandpa” he replied “Love you too Boomer.” I remember welling up after that and asking my mom if I could go start the car. I was never good with that sort of things, Goodbyes are always hard for me, especially the final ones. When we got home I went back to my regular routine, and finished up summer with my friends and the beach and just having a good time. When school came two weeks later, I was ready to see all of the old faces and get back into the swing of things, knowing that my grandfather was home and well. The second week of school was approaching and I was finally settling in again. Then on that Saturday night, my life took that fateful turn. As my mom finished stating “This time he didn’t make it.” We bursted into tears. I could not believe it. I was frantic, at first calm to console my mother, but hearing the sound of her sobs caused me to break down. In retrospect I’m glad my best friend was here to have helped me through it. I don’t know how I would have gone through it. A couple days later we returned for the funeral. They wanted me to sing and play a song at the service. Little did I know I would be opening. I decided to play Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton. I barely made it through half of the song before breaking down once more. The intense emotion of it all was enough to make the happiest person go into a crying fit. Seeing the slideshow my brother had made, and hearing the song Heaven by The Fire Theft didn’t help in the least, I still can’t listen to those songs without crying. To see his cap and sword on the altar along with his ashes tore me apart. After the ceremony, we headed back to my grandmother’s house. It was my first time back there since I had visited two weeks prior. The house felt different and all of his things were gone. I expected to walk in to see him on the couch in front of the TV with his headset and oxygen with his glasses falling off of his face, but that was all just a memory now. I couldn’t help but feel like it was if he had never existed. But his memory lives on. Through me, through my mother, through my grandmother and aunts and uncles and cousins, he will always be with us. I will always remember my Grandpa for the war he fought on the outside, and the battle that ended it all. He fought all the way to the end and never gave up, but in the end, there’s always the risk that one day when we fall, it won’t be our place to go on.