Papaw

I can still smell the wave of cologne every time I walk through this house. It triggers a part of my brain I thought had been erased or buried deep inside my mind, far away where it could no longer hurt me. He meant more to me than anyone I have ever met. The day he left me repeats over and over as the smell gets stronger. My heart begins to ache and scream inside, “what a trader”, I say to myself. “I can’t remember what he looks like’, I think quietly. How could I ever forget? The day my grandfather passed away was the worst, hardest, loneliest day of my life. It’s funny how you remember bits and pieces of people, but I can remember everything about him, except what he looks like. That thought scares me more than anything.
My grandfather, Al, towered over me. His beer belly stuck out over the edge of his baggy jeans. I can remember looking up into adoring eyes that shined like glistening emeralds. I could get lost in his bear hugs, as his humongous arms ...