Papa

My grandfather is quite possibly the greatest man I know. Funny, how my adoration for him never changed, even as my shoe size grew bigger and bigger.

“Wanna go on an adventure?” My seven-year-old self squeaked.

Adventure back then meant anything away from home.

Papa let out a bellowing laugh that nearly shook the car. There was just something about his cheery disposition, his almost Santa-like belly, that made me completely comfortable. Or maybe it was his authentic nature; he didn’t bother trying to look all grown up and tough around me just because I was young.

He grumbled for a moment. “Well, alright Sam. Let’s see what we can do here little girl…” Papa rubbed his whiskers thoughtfully. “Alright...how’s bout we go on a little ride to the cemetery?”

“Yeah! YEAH!” I replied without pause. Pixie barked with approval, sticking her chubby neck out of the window to get wind in her face. We both sat quietly, enjoying the peace of the road.

Suddenly his car jerked.

“GET OUTTA THE WAY A*****E!”

I frowned. “Papa! That’s a bad word! You owe me a quarter!”

He just chuckled.

“Alright Sam, you got me. I better stop soon I guess, or I’ll end up broke!” He laughed again. “Ya know...you’re a real insightful little girl miss Sam. I like your quickness.”

A pause.

“I don’t know what, but you’re gonna do something great someday! Just GREAT!” His voice rose a couple decibels the way it usually did for emphasis.

When we finally rolled up to our destination, I felt an absolute calmness at the sight of the leaves petting the streets in a motherly manner, then finally mixing together in a great dance.

This peaceful image didn’t seem too far away. It felt like if I reached out my hand, I could press the clouds of memory away and step into the past.

The realness of the memory is what made reality so hard to see.

One of the doctors came in with a clipboard, dragging my mother and I right outside his room. Her voice lowered to a whisper.

“Well he seems to be doing well, which is surprising for a man of his age. Especially with 99% blockage in his arteries...He’s a walking miracle!” She smiled encouragingly before hurriedly sprinting away to attend to her other nurse duties. I bit my lower lip, trying as best as I could to mentally prepare myself for the sight I knew I was soon to see.

Nothing I thought could prepare me for what I saw.

His skin was a pasty white, his breathing labored. Papa’s dull eyes were looking at me, but not really seeing me. The sight must’ve scared my mom even worse because she had to quickly flee.

“C’mon Sam...give him a hug and let’s go outside for a bit okay?” Her eyes pleaded for my agreement.

I shook my head.

“I’ll just be a little while.”

Mom sighed, rubbing her likely-sore back in the way adults usually do when they’ve given up the fight.

“Okay. Don’t be long.” She kissed my forehead, taking one last glance at him. From the corner of my eye I could’ve sworn a couple tears fell.

The nurse walked in a couple minutes later. She must’ve seen my intense expression, for she quickly said “I’ll give you some space. Here, I’ll go get you a lunch, you must be starved. What would you like?”

“Just a sandwich. I don’t care what kind.” I found myself saying, though I don’t remember thinking the words.

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the completely surreal setting. It seemed like his joyous spirit was sucked out, leaving just the shell of his body.

“Sam…?”

I gasped.

“Papa? You’re awake!?”

A couple of weary coughs ensued.

“Sam...glad to see ya.” His coughing grew louder, until it seemed like the devil was coughing through him.

I grabbed his arm. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Where’s Ms. Pam?” He asked in a desperate whisper, now staring wildly about the room. I was almost glad to hear a sense of normality about the situation; I was used to hearing him refer to his wife with formalness.

“She’s talking with Uncle Jim on the phone about you. She’ll be up shortly, don’t worry.”

Suddenly his coughing stopped. His tongue was sticking out, his eyes wide open, and no words. A feeling of sick panic overcame me.

Without another thought, I quickly sprang into action, wrapping my hand in a fist and pumping his stomach like I’d seen in videos. Papa’s facial expression never changed.

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, and I sped up my pumping.

“C’mon Papa...you can do this!”

His eyes started to drift. I felt my heart beat rapidly against its cage.

“...Please…” I whispered.

I waited, pushing his chest four more times.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

A loud cough erupts from his mouth, filled with a whitish substance. His breathing was still labored, but he was no longer choking. I let out a sigh of relief; surprisingly, even more tears flowed down my cheeks, and I couldn’t stop.

After what seemed like a small eternity, I finally regained some semblance of composure.

“Papa...are you gonna be okay?” I honestly couldn’t tell.

A small, tired smile grew from his lips. “Didn’t I tell you that you are an insightful girl? You tell me. I always knew you were quick.”

The diner was cool and shaded with dim lamps and soft conversations. Papa had grown even older within the short span of two years, grey bags clinging to his eyes, but his health now repaired.

“I think I’ll leave him a tip, what do you think?” He grinned, passing the menu roughly around the table. With a mighty yawn, he got up, not needing the assistance of a walker.

And now, as I look up at him looking at options on the menu and out from my little world, I can’t help but wonder at the amazement of him, and how he knows so much about me even though I talk little.

“Yeah. Ten should do the trick.”

We both giggle as he slaps a ten on the table. The night air is just as cool as the restaurant, tickling my nose.

It is time to go home.