I Went to Visit My Grandpa on Father’s Day – What My Brother Had Done Left Me Shattered

Jamie goes back to surprise the man who had raised him, on Father,s Day. However an open window and what it is he hears alters all this. When long established loyalties shatter to the ground, and dark secrets are brought to life, Jamie will be faced with this dilemma, what does family truly mean… and how hard is he willing to fight to keep it.

My name is Jamie, and this year, Father Day was a kick in the guts with a nostalgia taste.

I had two days early flight. I said nothing to anyone of what I planned. Not my little brother Travis, either. It was a softly intended surprise. Me, Grandpa Joe and one of them chocolate pecan pies out of the bakery two streets away his house.

To us he used to make it on Sundays as a reward after church, when Mom was still forcing us into stiff collars, and we were small enough to think that sugar made every problem solvable.

I had not been in the house in about two years. …but as I approached the old stone path and beheld the wash of blue on the siding, the sloped over sunflower pots, the mailbox fastened with a rubber band… I was back to being ten years old. I was anxious, even optimistic.

I hit the door bell. Nothing.

I rapped three times. Nothing.

and then I heard it, muffled at first. The voice of my brother Travis. It was cutting and frosty, running along the silence like a knife. I slipped about the house, and stood beside the bush, which was in fact a clump, beside the door of the kitchen.

One week, grandpa, and then I shall set off one. Only one! I am moving you out; I am packing your things, if you do not do what I am telling you. The best bet is a nursing home, period. You have long enough had this house.”

I froze. My hand was hanging on the knob of the door. The sounds came very loud through the open window of the kitchen, so loud I did not want it ever to be heard.

Grandpa, you are close to 80 years old! Travis snapped. Well you do not want an entire place to yourself. In the meantime, I have two children in one room, and Kayla is losing herself trying to adjust everything. This is now the house of our family.”

Grandpa said, “Travis.” His voice was not fainting. I brought you up. I brought your brother up. I sacrificed everything in order that you boys should not break. This house? I constructed it to us. Not of this Aristocratic blather to which you are expounding.

That was it all right, said Travis, as though he were pleased. You made this house and it has been good to us. Here we will make it work to us. Let it do work in my family… my family.”

I did not think. I simply come in.
Both of them turned. My grandpa looked astonished. Travis was immediately defensive, as a schoolchild caught with his hand in the till.

“Jamie?” Grandpa said in a frightened sort of voice, seeing that I was really there, inches before him.

Travis harrumphed. “I was getting out of here,” he grumbled, pushing me aside, as though concern with my welfare could cause his guilt to drain off him. Came up to business all right, Jamie. It is not your business.”
I said, “It was an eviction, rather.”

However, he did not go back. He simply continued his steps.

Behind him the door clicked shut.

I remained silent a good time. I simply went up, and put down the pie. The plastic wrap crinkled over the silence with loudness. Grandpa seemed already older than I remembered, hunched over the same way his shoulders had once never been, as though he was hauling something that was too heavy to bear for too long.

I said, I had brought this pie. “And this.”

I took the blue gift bag out and looked at the photo in the canvas. It was us at boot camp graduation and he was putting his arm around my shoulder, and smiling with the wet eyes and pride.

He now looked at it as though it were subject to living to break.

It is not that I knew you were coming, my boy, said the old fellow.
Why not? said I. I smiled. I was not aware that Travis was trying to intimidate you.

He believes he is acting to the advantage of his family, he heaved with a heavy sigh.

Through being evicted off your house?
“He’s… struggling. The children are children. The job is rocky. Kayla is always tired out.”

It is not thy load, said I. Not so.
We were in the living room on the coffee table lay the photo. I surveyed. It was the same but it was different. The arm chair was still squeaking. The shelf was still on the inclination. So, this time, the air was tense and there was a tension so much in the house that the house had been holding its own breath.

Why did you not tell me? I asked.

He was smiling half-smilingly at me; and it was an inconsiderate remark. I said, “I did not want to make trouble, Jamie, mi lad. You have never had little to do. I guessed you had knocked your time out.”
I never done my time, I said. I served our time. And now it was thy moment.”

He laughed, and softly stroked the arm of his chair.

He pointed to the box, and said: “that is my favorite pie still.” I traded up, possibly, to peach cobbler of late.

He did not say who the manufacturer is. He only grinned as though he had a pet secret which he was not yet willing to surrender.

“Oh, yeah?” I gave a raised eyebrow. What was the reason?

Thinking next thing I hear is a sneer that he is changing his tastes, he shrugged, a bit too easily.

I put down the note. I did not exercise any amount of pressure. I dropped the discussion to another day.
The following morning I began calling.

Elder care, financial assistance and legal aids. I was not making a visit after all. I was doing my showing-up- the way he always did.

We now had a living trust by that afternoon. Grandpa Joe had all his rights over the property and this was legal now. Nobody could keep him out of it; no one could pressure, coerce or manipulate him to come out.
I don not need any assistance, Jamie, he replied. “I’m fine.”

Well, I know, Grandpa, I’m sure I know, I said. It is not so much you as myself. When I go, I will have to know that you will be taken care of. I am just a plane ride away but I must ensure that there is somebody here, until I arrive at you.”

Nothing will ever happen, son.

Grandpa, in order to an emergency. Say, please, I said.

We established part time home care which was provided with what Grandpa was comfortable with. Twice a week he was visited by a retired nurse, Miss Carla. On the first day she showed up to know us, she brought banana bread, and she was more of the garden and less of pills and heart disease.

He fancied that.

I saw him smiling more that week than I had seen him through years.

It was learned by Travis 3 days later.
Instead, he did not make a call. Instead he just texted me:

And I suppose I see where your allegiances are at, eh?”
I was long gazing on it. Not that I did not know how to answer God, but because I came to the realization that I did not owe Him one. Not anymore.

Everybody is a chooser. When she figured we were safe and that we were in the hands of Grandpa Mom decided to take a back seat and took time to reconstitute herself…

And now? I was making decisions, also. I was making decisions to save the man, who did not cease choosing us.

I made no answer. I did better than that instead.
post.I have shared a picture of Grandpa and me on Facebook.

Happy Father day to the man who willingly took us during the times when he did not have to. You showed me how strong can be that which is quiet. You have demonstrated to me how love really is. You presented us a residence, a heart, a living…

You are more than a Grandpa. You my Dad.

Day after day.”
In an hour it blew up.

Human beings told narratives. His old shop students even thanked him because they would have ended up in the streets. There were testimonials by neighbors who were free of charge to use his services to repair their gutters. One lady said he even used to escort her home in the nights when her husband passed away and it just took the guy two months because he did not want a woman to feel lonely.

And I just read there as each word took up the silence Travis had attempted.
He had an eye on it. I am sure he did. He did not respond on the post online though. He neither took any remark.

.

That quietness? It was what he has ever shouted.

A week later a letter came. Apology not. Nought that even resembled kind words. It was as if it was dripping with guilt even before the laundry.

You allow the golden kid to turn you against your actual family. I was there. I helped. Remember who came with groceries when you were in bed. The homemade food my wife cooked should not be forgotten. Nor the love and care I had of you With my children.”
Grandpa was roaring. Actually laughed.
then he threw it into the fire.

He still believes love is money, Jamie, grandpa said, as the envelope burned in an ash curl. as you win it in favours and guilt. I guess I have done something wrong with him…”

His was to draw the line, I saw, as he looked about him at that old lion of a man. And letting the fire be warm to it.

It was at that point when something changed. I had come thinking that I would stay only a couple of days and go back to my job and my apartment and my distance properly maintained. but standing up there, as he was laughing at guilt and etc. making it go to ash, I understood I did not want to leave again.

This time affair.
Not so much especially with Travis yet moving around like A cloud that had not delivered. His silence might be temporary but I did not believe what he was up to. I had to be here, not only on behalf of Grandpa, but to ensure that nobody ever tried in future to use love as leverage.

We were catching rhythm. I always prepared coffee in the morning. He watered the plants that were on the front porch. We card-played. Raved over nothing. Everything talked about.

One night I inquired about Mom. It must then have been many years since I had mentioned her… I had not seen her or talked with her in years.

Last week she called, he said, and put in chives with our scrambled eggs. she said she is going to be here soon.

“Really?”
She works in that mental home in these two communities. According to her, there is a lot less going on during the night shifts. She claimed that she wanted silence. So much heart in it during all those years of keeping it together… I suppose she sought to at last crack up in a place of refuge.”

It was reasonable, and it was painful, pussy-like. I knew though.

She cracked you said, with the look at your coffee. Only she gave you all the whole pieces of self first, that is.”
I nodded, as I could not speak because of the tight throat I had.

I believe that there is the reason why your brother is so bitter. He feels lost… It stings him worse even than it did you.”
One afternoon we sat on the porch when a voice called out.

Hello there, Grandpa Joe!
And it was little Lila, the eldest of Travis, wild-eyed and bouncing-pigtailed, six years old. I lumbered behind her with Kayla visibly unwilling.

Can they pay hi? she asked.

It does, always, nodded Grandpa. “Always, Kayla.”

Lila run up the steps, and clung against his knees.
Lila said: “Dad says we are not to stay long.”

Kayla smiled, sheepishly and said, “I simply thought that they were interested to exchange something.”

She offered him a bag of paper. All here-a-peaches.

They are sweet,” she appended. You can give it to one of those that has been making you a cobbler you mentioned before all this… ugliness.”
Grandpa smiled only.

Kayla did not look me in the eyes at once, yet, as she was ready to turn and go, she stopped.

So to speak, what is it worth… She said, I did not know how bad it was. “With Travis. I should’ve. I would stop in and out… you know, skills are all right, you know, just to surmise that he was not being too hard. But again the kids caught on me.”
quiet, Kayla, said Grandpa. It is ok.
And you not to blame, I said, more quietly. “But thanks.”

Then when they had gone Grandpa said nothing, but sat and looked at the light move through the garden fence. I sat next him listening to the wind through the screens of the porch.

Weeks passed. The garden was flowering. Grandpa entered a checkers club at the old people center and began to write a woodworking book. Most evenings we received a visit of mystery by the cobbler baker Evelyn. She had cobbler and casseroles.
Travis averted talking. Well, that was all right. May silence belong to his legacy.

On one of the nights we were sitting under the sky, which had been loaded with stars, on the back porch, where Grandpa and Evelyn and I had hot cocoa and shortbread, freshly baked by Evelyn.

You see,” he said, “I am glad I came out of retirement. Not once. I was able to watch you boys develop in the schools corridors and at home. I had a chance to be there.”
Grandpa, you were the only one that was.

He grinned, leisurely and gloriously.

I didn’t have to be like their dad, said he to Evelyn. I desired to be.”
I watched him at that time with furrows all around his eyes, paper-like skin, workman hands still strong by years of toil. He was not only a man who brought Travis and me up, he brought many students up.
It was due to him that we all ended up becoming who we were.

and now, perhaps now, it was time to be about more… than to come around and repair things. I was even beginning to scan the job market at home. Something a little nearer. Not only our Grandpa. Perhaps with Mom, also. Had she ever appealed. In case she would ever desire to renter something like family.

That is what some single parents tend to do, grandpa said, survive the storm only to breathe elsewhere.
and I reckon I wanted to be around… in case she ever come home and breathe. And even in case Travis was saying his nonsenses again.

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