There’s nothing regular
about this Sunday. As my cousins and I sit in Meme and Pawpaw’s cozy, warm
bedroom, away from the freezing January weather outside, watching TV, my hands
are soaked in sweat as I fret about the awaiting news. I hear the simple, yet
terrifying, “ring, ring, ring!” of
the telephone, I run to the living room just as Bee, my mom’s cousin, answers
it. Impatiently, I stand there and wait as a curious eleven-year-old. Then,
just as Bee drops to her knees and I see the tears streaming down her face, a
feeling hits me so hard I want to scream as I realize what has just happened.
My aunt, Tori, picks the phone up and begins to talk. I can hear the twist as my
stomach knots up. She hangs up. As my head spins, I am ushered back into the
bedroom with the cousins. After I hear the gut-wrenching news of my
grandfather’s death, I’m in shock and all I can feel is my heart breaking as
the tears flood out.
My mind instantly flashes to the time when Pawpaw was
teaching me how to swing.
I clutch the plastic covered chains so hard that my knuckles turn white. Pawpaw begins pushing me and then he tells me when to tuck my legs back and swing them out again. I’m so excited as I realize that I’m doing it all by myself.
My tears fall more heavily as I realize that Pawpaw won’t
ever get to teach all of my cousins how to swing. They’ll never have that
wonderful experience like me.
It’s
a Wednesday. A typical Wednesday if fifth grade a month or so before the new year.
I go over to Meme and Pawpaw’s house after school every Wednesday now. After
finishing my homework, I begin to miss my Webkinz. So, I decide to tell Pawpaw
all about them. I walk over to his chair. Pawpaw’s chair. The chair he always
sits in.
I begin speaking by a simple question, “Pawpaw, do you
know what Webkinz are?”
He gave a simple reply, one I expected, “No.”
I got excited and began to speak quickly, “Well, I have
twelve of them. They’re stuffed animals that have a code that you use to put in
your account on your computer.”
Pawpaw said, “Oh, wow! What do you do on the computer?”
As an eleven year old, I was glad to know that someone
wanted to hear about my Webkinz. I ecstatically talked all about how I got to
play games with them and decorate rooms for each of them.
After finishing the description of my Webkinz, I said, “I
wish I could show you them!”
Moments
later, I realize that Riley’s, my younger brother by two years, birthday is
coming up. So, I add on, “Hey, when you come to our house for Riley’s birthday
party in February, I can show my Webkinz to you then.”
Pawpaw smiles and says, “Sounds like a plan!”
I walk back to my chair to color while thoughts flow
through my mind. I grin as I realize that Pawpaw is my favorite family member.
He listens to me no matter how stupid the subject is, and whether he fakes the
excitement or not, I appreciate it. I know I can tell him anything. I'm thankful for the time I have with him.
It’s another Sunday after church and the whole family is
here at Meme's house for lunch, like any other regular Sunday. Even after my twelfth birthday
in May, four months after Pawpaw’s heart attack, I still look at the first
chair on the left of the table and expect to see Pawpaw sitting there with a
beer in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Seeing my uncle by the stove
cooking, rather than Pawpaw, still pains me. The thought that I’ve had the last
of my days talking and laughing with my Pawpaw just isn’t right. You really
don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
“All you have to do is press the gas, I’ll be doing the
steering.” Pawpaw explains as I just stare in fright.
I wanted to, but I didn’t. Driving the four-wheeler? I thought. It’s time for Sunday lunch and
what am I, this nine year old, doing? I’m contemplating on whether to “drive”
the four-wheeler or not.
I got in Pawpaw’s lap and Riley sat on the very back. As
Pawpaw started it up, I heard the low rumble of the four-wheeler coming to
life. While I pressed on the gas button, Pawpaw steered, Riley sat back, and we
drove in circles around the enormous backyard. After awhile though, I thought
I’d speed up.
Due to the rain from previous days, there were still ruts
in the grass. The second I pressed harder on the gas to speed up, we were going
over one of the ruts. I felt the four-wheeler begin to tip as it flung my body
off. I hit the grass with a thud and all I heard was crying and groans. I got
to my feet and stood there as I watched Riley running towards the house crying
with a hand on his back. I can’t register that Pawpaw is stuck underneath the
four-wheeler, groaning.
I faintly see my family coming out of the house. I feel
someone’s arms slip around me as I am scooped up and carried towards the house.
Shock. Shock is what they would call it. This is what I’m
in, and it’s also the explanation as to why I just stood there and did nothing.
The last thing I see before I enter the house is the men moving the
four-wheeler off of Pawpaw. I feel my heart breaking as I think: It’s all my fault.
But luckily, Riley only has a bleeding scratch on his
back, Pawpaw has a broken arm, and then there’s me, a child in shock. It could
have been worse…
Through good and bad experiences, people can learn
anything. Sometimes you need to learn how to spend your time wisely. You never
know what may happen. Time is something that should be valued, not wasted.
