He said,” Take care of your granny for me, Ok? “and “Always remember I love you.” These were the last words my papa said to me. It was early and I had to brush the knots out of my overly curly hair and get out of the bathroom. After all, there were important things to get done before heading off to school. As I started my way down the hall to my room, my grandfather called my name. He was my grandfather, but I called him Papa. I rushed to the door of his bedroom. He laid inside on his larger than life bed Smiling and patting a small section atop the covers next to his side. I crawled ever so carefully onto the huge bed and sat silently looking into his shiny blue eyes. Papa then took my tiny hand into his and grinned bigger than ever at me. We began to have our morning talk; this was our tradition each morning before we began each day. Papa wasn’t usually still in bed. We talked of my day ahead. Math was getting easier and I was learning to be quiet during class time, with a little urging from my teachers. He pointed out the two went together. The old being quiet and paying attention, and you will learn a thing or two speech was popular between the two of us. He asked me to sing him a song. I Come to the Garden was one of his favorites, and I was more than happy to chirp out my version just for him. I could feel his hand tighten around mine as I sang. I thought I saw a hint of a tear in the corner of his eye. I wasn’t quite sure if the song touched his heart or my voice was touching his ears a little too loud. I softened my voice and finished my song for Papa. He thanked me and began rushing me off to breakfast and on my way to school. I slid slowly down the monster of a bed he lay in. Tilting my toes toward the floor and griping the covers till I could feel floor beneath my toes. As I walked under the doorframe, not in, yet not out of the room: he said those two sentences to me. He spoke in a quiet gentle voice with a matter of fact tone. I looked back, flashed my biggest smile and said, I will and I love you too.” A quick breakfast and a short walk to school was as any other day before. Before I knew it, the day was almost over and I was sitting in Math class. Half working division exercises and half gazing out the window, I noticed an unusual amount of cars entering my grandparents’ drive for a middle of the afternoon. One quick reminder of my time left to finish my class work and my attention was brought anxiously back to division. Recess and then off to the library for study time and my day learning would gladly come to an end. I sat in a corner quietly reading as I heard my fathers soft gentle voice. The librarian walked over to me after speaking with him and told me I could go home for the day. As I climbed into the car I discovered I was not the only one leaving early for the day. My two brothers and a cousin were crammed into the backseat, talking loud and planning their afternoon adventures. My dad sat down in the drivers seat. It seemed as if time stood still. The boys became silent as my dad gripped the steering wheel with ghost like fingers and his entire body began to shake. I knew, without him explaining a thing, I knew. My papa had gone to Heaven as I sat there in my Math class that day. I knew how important his last choice of words was. I realized how my singing, “ I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear falling on my ear, “ must have been the true reason for the tear I believed to have witnessed. He left me with a lesson on being more attentive and allowing myself to learn. I did help take care of granny until she went to be with him in Heaven. Heaven is where I believe them to be. In believing this I find comfort. I can still hear his voice from time to time and I know in my heart and soul, he will… always love me.
