My grandpa is the buoy that keeps me afloat. My lifeboat, my rock, my home.
24 hours, 86,400 seconds, 1 day. Over the course of the days, 25,200 seconds are spent reading, writing, and solving, while the rest are spent running, playing, practicing, and of course, sleeping. Of the ones not occupied, the moments I find most pleasurable are the seconds between receiving and reading texts from my grandfather, as well as the ones I spend with him.
In the days of spring, we would sit on his back porch, under a tree, talking about our days. The simplicity of it all was admirable.
I would fall asleep into the days of summer, waking up and finding him gardening under the sun. Vines of morning glories straddled the fence as sunflower stalks shot into the sky.
Dancing into the colorful leaves of fall, I used to see whirlybirds falling from that same spring tree, my grandma always making sure my grandfather swept them off the deck.
As the first frost appears, there is whipped cream on my lips, from the hot cocoa my grandfather had heated. Always with water, and never milk.
Amidst the change of season and time, the man with rosy cheeks remained the same. The same person who only grinned and never smiled in pictures, the one who always encouraged me to excel in every little thing I pursue.
His daily text of, “How was your day?” has become my most treasured message, and while so simple in phrasing, expresses such great love. After sending my typical reply of “Good” or “Great!!”, I always am met with his one-word answer back, “Why?”
How can 3 letters simply decorated with a question mark be so complex? His question somehow rattles me every time.
My initial thoughts are to respond with something at face value such as, “Practice went well,” or, “Biology class was fun,” but I seem to always have a notion that I can’t just allow myself to simply acknowledge those small moments of my day. I have an obligation to embrace them and keep them close to my heart, in hopes of never being able to forget them.
The conversations that have occurred with my grandfather, whether through a screen or face to face allowed me to be more conscious of the preciousness of life. He taught me to love the people around me, despite whether or not they showed compassion back. Fate doesn’t allow us to sit back, and let our loved ones go.
The grey text box that continues to illuminate my screen as each of his messages pings through serves as a reminder to take a few seconds of the thousands a day to show endearment.
Among my favorite messages reads, “God or simply luck gave you a gift. Many others are not so lucky. Give comfort and love. We all need that.”
24 hours, 86,400 seconds, 1 day. Over the course of the days, 25,200 seconds are spent reading, writing, and solving, while the rest are spent running, playing, practicing, and of course, sleeping. Of the ones not occupied, the moments I find most pleasurable are the seconds between receiving and reading texts from my grandfather, as well as the ones I spend with him.
In the days of spring, we would sit on his back porch, under a tree, talking about our days. The simplicity of it all was admirable.
I would fall asleep into the days of summer, waking up and finding him gardening under the sun. Vines of morning glories straddled the fence as sunflower stalks shot into the sky.
Dancing into the colorful leaves of fall, I used to see whirlybirds falling from that same spring tree, my grandma always making sure my grandfather swept them off the deck.
As the first frost appears, there is whipped cream on my lips, from the hot cocoa my grandfather had heated. Always with water, and never milk.
Amidst the change of season and time, the man with rosy cheeks remained the same. The same person who only grinned and never smiled in pictures, the one who always encouraged me to excel in every little thing I pursue.
His daily text of, “How was your day?” has become my most treasured message, and while so simple in phrasing, expresses such great love. After sending my typical reply of “Good” or “Great!!”, I always am met with his one-word answer back, “Why?”
How can 3 letters simply decorated with a question mark be so complex? His question somehow rattles me every time.
My initial thoughts are to respond with something at face value such as, “Practice went well,” or, “Biology class was fun,” but I seem to always have a notion that I can’t just allow myself to simply acknowledge those small moments of my day. I have an obligation to embrace them and keep them close to my heart, in hopes of never being able to forget them.
The conversations that have occurred with my grandfather, whether through a screen or face to face allowed me to be more conscious of the preciousness of life. He taught me to love the people around me, despite whether or not they showed compassion back. Fate doesn’t allow us to sit back, and let our loved ones go.
The grey text box that continues to illuminate my screen as each of his messages pings through serves as a reminder to take a few seconds of the thousands a day to show endearment.
Among my favorite messages reads, “God or simply luck gave you a gift. Many others are not so lucky. Give comfort and love. We all need that.”
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.