“Grandpa why are you on oxygen? What does it do? Grampy, don’t ignore me, talk to me.” I looked at him with the cutest little girl puppy face he had ever seen. “Are you ok?” I couldn’t stop asking him, he just looked at me with dark brown eyes and nothing but a tired face. He finally said, “They help me breathe, I’ve worked on a farm my whole entire life. Being old fashioned you kids would say, not wearing any masks if the dust are going in to my lungs or not.” He looked at me with the biggest smile.

“That’s not smart you should have worn a mask then you could come play and be outside a lot more.”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry I will get better. Sammy I have given these oxygen tanks names you want to know what their names are?”

“Yes yes I do!” I said jumping with joy. Not noticing he had just changed the subject a little.

“Well this little one’s name is little Joe. This one that is a little bigger is called Joe junior. Then this big one is called Big Joe.”

“Grandpa, those are not names. That’s only one name and it’s boring.”

“That’s their names would you like it if I changed your name cause it was just one name and boring.”

“No, that’s true, their names can stay, I guess. But remember no changing my name. I like my name it’s cute.”

“O Sammy, I wouldn’t change your name it’s just perfect for you. Your parents did a good job picking it.”

“Good cause if they picked a bad name I would not be a cute little princess but is it ok if I go play now?” I said quietly so my Grammy would not here me begging.

He never told me exactly when or why he ended up having to breathe from oxygen. He always went around the subject. Like I never noticed he was not telling me the whole truth only some of it. But I really did no there was more to the truth. But back then I just loved the attention he gave me even though he was tired and quiet. I was the only one who didn’t understand what was exactly wrong. My brother probably knew, but is it because I was the youngest, no one wanted me to worry. He was dying of old age and all the farming he had done without any protection from anything that could have harmed him.

As I lie awaken at night now in my fluffy pink cloud of a bed. I always think about him. Before he got very sick he always came over to my bed and with a quiet voice whisper “good night.” like he sometimes did if he didn’t go to bed before me, the wild little child who usually is like a wolf that only comes out at night to play. Now I have all the time in the world to think about what I could have done when he was alive. I go to bed earlier but go to sleep late having him be that last thing on my mind before my eyes begin to feel like bricks until I give in and shut them and fall right to sleep into a deep dream.

When thinking of my wonderful grandfather. I always wonder why the smell of nail polish bugged him. He always went right out the door and sat outside when I was doing my nails. He got all grumpy when I did them at night, I always stopped half way doing my nails because he left and I had no one to tell me how pretty they looked. My Grammy usually told me “Put that stuff away it is not good for you!” why is it not good for me? Well she meant to say it’s not good for grandpa’s lungs because they are really bad. Mixing it with his oxygen and that fume from the polish could have hurt him really bad I guess.

He has taken a piece of my heart and made it his. In a way I have some if his bitterness and sweetness inside of me. Also other chararistics as well. I just wonder which parts of me came from him. I don’t know, only if I had the chance to get to know him better. At least I had time to spend some of my life with him. So I could get to know him a little more and figure out some of his life. This made me feel happy but sad. All he really like talking about was farming. Sorry to say I am not a big farm fan. Any way life is suppose to be like a mystery some of it will always be unsolved, some will be solved with a just a touch of a wound. But the mystery I have to deal with, is not suppose to be solve by the guy that left a mark on my heart.

Now since he has passed on to a better life I am stuck in this world thinking back on everything that I have to remind me of him. Such as when my parents went away on a missionary trip and left all three of us kids behind with the grandparents. I didn’t want my parents to go then but now I am glad they did. When they came back from their trip I wouldn’t want my grandparents to go especially my grandfather because I didn’t figure out a lot about him. But my parents always said next trip you can have fun with Grampy again. But that was the last time; I didn’t have a chance to get to know him more after that. They should never have made a promise that they couldn’t have kept, honestly promising me I could see him again on the next trip and be able to talk to him a lot more. Yeah ok whatever never happened. He passed away a few months after that.

Our lives go by so fast we don’t have the time in the world to get to know the person that we truly want to know about. As I sit back and relax on my coach and think about how my grandfather would name his tanks and taught me that everyone in the world has a place on this earth they were made for and that the names that were picked for them were made just for them. I have been wondering what he has truly kept from me. I always have been asking myself should I have stayed with him that day and talked to him more and let him tell me about all of his favorite memories. Such as why he loved to farm nonstop, how he and Grammy met and what he loved to do for fun. Also I could have got know him for the true grandfather he truly was.

So many questions to be answered. But so little bit of time I had left to spend with the guy that I wanted to know so much about. He is a big part of my life shouldn’t I know what he was like so I could make my own decision on what he was like to me. Or did I have enough time to find out what he was like? I don’t know, that’s a question that won’t be answered until I go to heaven and see him again.