He Left These Here For You

Granddad saved change under the paper in his dresser drawer. We never dared to look and see how much he had to share. He saved it there with a purpose; to give when I was there. For a nickel I would comb his hair; a quarter bought a shave. He loved to give me money; I loved the way he cared. A playful sort, he loved to laugh; he always teased and joked. There was endless time to play with me; that’s how my granddad was. My granddad grew a garden, the prettiest one in town. I would help him plant the rows of corn. Three seeds dropped in each hole that he made. Row after row, together we worked our way down. And when the work was completely done, it was time for fun! A shave, hair comb, and a pedicure would make him fall asleep. Grandma brought bright red polish to decorate his feet! When he'd wake up, I’d sit on the floor, knowing what was next. He would bring out coins from his dresser drawer And laugh about his toes… (A tradition as my grandmother knows.) He was always amused while I counted all of my loot. He would tease and laugh and taunt. To me, he was number one! At age eighteen, while in the Army, the horrible message came. Granddad had died from an allergy; life would never be the same. I tried not to cry, like I promised him; I could not bear the pain. He loved me so and I loved him. I felt so alone. How could I go through life and never hear his voice. I must go on; we had talked of this; even now, he still is missed. I didn't go home for many years; when I did…he wasn’t there. Emptiness came over me, and an ocean full of tears. Then, Grandma took me to his drawer… “He left these here for you.” © July 9, 2011 Dane Smith-Johnsen