When I was a baby up until I was about 8 I would go over to my Grandma and Papas house after school and during the days in the summer while my mom was at work. My Grandma worked often too so my papa took care of me. He taught me everything from how to tie my shoes, to how to paint, and how to have fun. We always had a lot of fun together, one of our favorite things to do together was to scooter.
It started when I got two scooters for my 6th birthday, one from my Grandma and Papa and one from my Mom; It worked out well because then my Papa could scooter with me. Though at first I thought it was a mistake, but now, upon reflection I think it might not have been an accident. Even if it was an accident, it worked out well. We always had a lot of fun scootering together. It is one of my favorite memories with my papa, speeding down the steep cement incline of his driveway on scooters, laughing and enjoying the day.
One day I watched as he pushed off with his left foot and down the driveway, his now too big shirt and hair rippling in the wind. He calls back to young, energetic, eight year old me,
“Come on cait!”.
I smile and race quickly after him, and quickly catching up.
When we finally stop he is out of breath and looks pale and tired, but still smiles happily at me. It’s weird, I reflect, he isn’t usually tired so quickly, but then again he is getting older. I worry that he's getting sick. It is then that it strikes me that he IS getting older, that one day we won't be able to race down the driveway anymore, and that one day he will die. In that moment of realization I promised myself that I would appreciate this time I have with my family, that I would spend as much time as I can with them.
Now, years later, I'm glad I have those memories of warm summer days spent with my Papa. Partially im glad because in the middle of 8th grade my Papa was diagnosed with leukemia. I was devastated. I tried to be strong, to not cry, but severely failed. My tears refused to stay in. The fear of losing my papa demanded to be felt. Treatment made him too sick to scooter with me anymore, much to my disappointment, but it made me appreciate those memories even more.