Dr. Love
01-09-2012, 12:07 AM
Sorry for this being so late, I've been busy with school and wrestling lately and haven't had much time to do this sort of thing. Hopfully the next part will be up soon. This part is short, but here you go:
This went on for as long as I can remember until I finally asked him about it in December of 1986. He was reading a book on the living room couch when I entered; he didn’t seem to notice me. I squatted down near the couch and addressed him: “Grampa?”
He put his book down, looked at me, and replied: “Yes, Danielle?”
“Why do you always carry around that old pocket-watch?”
He laughed softly and said: “For the same reason anyone has a watch, to keep track of time.”
“Yeah, I know but…” That wasn’t what I meant to say. I meant to ask him why he did what he did at 4:56 of every afternoon. So with no other way to word it, I was as blunt as possible:
“Why do you make that sad face whenever your watch hits 4:56p.m.?”
His eye widened. He didn’t know that I had been watching him long enough to figure out his quirks. But he wasn’t disturbed; he gave a gentle smile and said:
“Well, aren’t you an intelligent young lady. I had no idea that you’d been observing me like this.”
I laughed nervously: “Yeah, I guess I was just curious”
I suppose I didn’t want to seem nosy, but when he phrased it like that I couldn’t help but feel that way.
“Don’t worry. I know that after all this time you must eager to learn why I do that”
He shifted himself to where he was leaning back on the couch in a relaxed position: “Since you’re old enough now, I can finally tell you the story of why”
I stopped squatting and sat down in preparation for his tale.
“It all happened on the 21st of July, 1951”
This went on for as long as I can remember until I finally asked him about it in December of 1986. He was reading a book on the living room couch when I entered; he didn’t seem to notice me. I squatted down near the couch and addressed him: “Grampa?”
He put his book down, looked at me, and replied: “Yes, Danielle?”
“Why do you always carry around that old pocket-watch?”
He laughed softly and said: “For the same reason anyone has a watch, to keep track of time.”
“Yeah, I know but…” That wasn’t what I meant to say. I meant to ask him why he did what he did at 4:56 of every afternoon. So with no other way to word it, I was as blunt as possible:
“Why do you make that sad face whenever your watch hits 4:56p.m.?”
His eye widened. He didn’t know that I had been watching him long enough to figure out his quirks. But he wasn’t disturbed; he gave a gentle smile and said:
“Well, aren’t you an intelligent young lady. I had no idea that you’d been observing me like this.”
I laughed nervously: “Yeah, I guess I was just curious”
I suppose I didn’t want to seem nosy, but when he phrased it like that I couldn’t help but feel that way.
“Don’t worry. I know that after all this time you must eager to learn why I do that”
He shifted himself to where he was leaning back on the couch in a relaxed position: “Since you’re old enough now, I can finally tell you the story of why”
I stopped squatting and sat down in preparation for his tale.
“It all happened on the 21st of July, 1951”