My grandfather died in 2007 when I was only nine years old. Even though I was only nine, I remember him pretty well. He was one of the most famous medical doctors in the Soviet Union.
One thing that really stuck out to me was his dedication to his work. When he was sick and could not work as much as he would have liked, people would call on him, or go to his house for advice and he would never turn anyone down. He would never show how bad he was feeling or complain once about something.
Even to this day I still hear a lot of people say good things about him. Most of those people were complete strangers to him.
One small detail about him which I remember very clearly is the time my brother and I spent with him on Saturdays. My parents would leave us at his house and we would go for long walks. He would always ask us about what was going on, and be very interested in our answers. He took us seriously and was a very good listener. That meant a lot to me.
In my mind, he was different from other people because he never talked about himself and his accomplishments - and he always helped others before himself.