(If you want to you can listen to I won’t give up by Jason Mraz. While you read. At the dots pause for ten seconds. I hope you enjoy!😊)

“It was the best day of my life,” I whispered, my mind wandering. “What happened?” Nik asked, his sweet, small eyes meeting mine. They reminded me so much of Maya. I smiled, “Everything.”

………………………………………………………………..

“I’m Damon,” I smile, the sun making her eyes shine. “I’m Maya,” she smiled back.

……………………………………………..:…………………

“It was you!” Maya shouted, “You broke my heart! . . You broke it.”

Her pale blue eyes met mine, tears streaming down her face. I didn’t answer, I stood still my heart cracking every second I didn’t speak.

She shut her eyes hard, “I guess that’s my answer.”

I watched her leave, tears sliding down my cheek. All I wanted to do was run after her, but I didn’t. I let her leave.

Maya never spoke to me again. And neither did I. Maybe it was just how it was supposed to be.

………………………………………………………………..

I smiled as I saw the bright stars. They’d never shined this bright.

“Maya,” I whispered. That’s who it reminded me of.

My heart ached, a feeling I’d grown to hate.

I pulled my phone out, my back round picture still of us smiling I had never looked that happy, even all this time.

“Damon?”

I turned around.

“Damon,” it’s Maya her eyes streaming with tears, “I’m so sorry.”

I stand still, it’s been years. Too many.

“I can’t live without you,” she continued, “No one can. I’m not giving up. I love you.”

A smile forms on my face, I rush over to her.

My hands on her cheeks as we kiss.

“Maya, I’m sorry,” I say, my hands still glued to her cheeks.

She cries a sound almost like laughter, “I love you, Damon. I’ll always love you.”

“I’m never leaving,” I whisper, “I’m going to marry you.”

Maya smiled, her face inches from mine, “I know.”

………………………………………………………………..

“I’ve never felt this way,” I smile, Maya’s hair blowing in the wind, with her white dress. “I love you, and I’ll always remeber this moment. For both of us.”

Maya smiled, “Damon, I’m sorry I gave up on us. But I’m here now, and I’m never leaving. Your stuck with me. I love you, and I’ll love you as long as the stars are shinning. As long as my life will let me. I’ll never stop.”

……………………………………………………………….

Nik smiles his eyes lit with joy, “Really?” He asks. I nod, “Really.” He laughs, “It’s like the movie Mommy was watching.” I laugh, my eyes looking up to meet Mayas. She’s crying her, hand in her mouth. I smile, tears sliding down my cheek. “Grandpa?” Nik asks, “What’s wrong?” I shake my head forming a smile, “Nothing, Nik. Just never give up. Always fight, always try,” I keep my eyes on Maya’s, “Never forget that.” Nik climbs off my lap, and runs into Maya’s open arms. She hugs him close, her eyes smiling just like the day I first saw them.

…………………………………………………………………

April 28, 1917 “Mama!” Maisie yelled. “Yes love?” Evie said, faking a tired smile as she turned around. “I’m not tired!” Maisie whined, climbing her long dress and curling up on her lap. “Sweetheart, little girls shouldn’t be up this late. Maybe if you close your eyes hard enough you’ll fall asleep,” Evie soothed. “C’n I have ‘nother story Mama?” Maisie asked. “You know the rules, one story per night,” Evie sighed. “But Mama!” she whined back, giving her puppy eyes she earned from her father. “All right fine,” Evie caved, “but no other stories after. Deal?” “Deal!” Maisie smiled.

…

“Which one darling?” Evie asked as she tucked Maisie in her bed. “One from your head,” she replied, squirming in the bed. “What do you mean? Oh.” Evie said. “One ‘bout Daddy!” Maisie replied. Evie sighed, five years. Five damn years and she still couldn’t talk about him, let alone tell a story about him. “Alright then. Get comfortable because this is a long one…” Maisie smiled. “Well one day Mama was in Texas with all your uncles and Auntie Laura. Daddy and I wanted to go out to the forest so we decided to go together-“ “When does Daddy kiss you, Mama?” Maisie interrupted. “Hush baby. That parts comes in soon.” Evie smiled. “So we end up sharing a horse to go out to the trees and forest. I attempt to steer the horse, but I can’t. Now Daddy, Daddy’s good with horses and can see that I’m struggling with the reins. After this, he wraps his hands around mine and teaches me how to control the horse-“ “What horse Mama?” Maisie interrupted again. “He died a long time ago, love,” Evie sighed. “Okay let’s continue and no more interruptions or you’re gonna have to ask multiple different uncles and aunts,” Evie laughed which caused stern nod from Maisie. “So he teaches me how to steer the horse and steers me towards a tree. We get off the horse and he tells me to close my eyes. He slowly guides me more towards the tree and he sits me down under it. He tells me that ever since he has known me, he had loved me, and I told him I love him too. Out of nowhere, we both kiss and soon we’re riding the horse together again, back to the ranch. But what comes next?” “You two got married, Mama!” Maisie grinned. “Ah yes. Then what comes after that?” “Me!” Maisie snickered. “Ah yes my love. Now go to sleep. No waking up till the morning, alright?” Evie said. “But why’d Daddy have to leave?” Evie sighed. She couldn’t tell him. Death was so simple, yet so hard for her to understand. “Daddy was sick darlin’, so God had to bring him up to Heaven so he could feel better,” Evie said. “Oh, does he still love me and you?” Maisie asked. “Yes baby. He both loves us very much,” Evie soothed. “Good night Mama,” Maisie whispered as she squirmed. “Good night my love, now get some rest alright? I love you so much, sweetheart,” Evie whispered back, but Maisie was fast asleep. Evie slowly closed the door on her way out. That was hard, she thought to herself. She didn’t know what Maisie was thinking at that point. Maisie never said anything about Zachary, let alone asking for a story. Evie sighed as she closed the door and went back to her typewriter.

…

She couldn’t focus. Everything Maisie said about her father disturbed her. “I guess this was my fault,” Evie thought as she stood up from her desk and went to go undo her hair. She missed Zachary. From the way he touched her shoulder when she was sad, to when he’d come home from a long night, and snuggle up right next to Evie, her warmth against his cold. “He still loves me, he wouldn’t ever stopped, and he promised me that even on his deathbed,” she thought to herself, “I guess that’s too much emotion for one night,” She slowly got into bed and soon fell asleep with the image of Zachary, holding both Maisie and Evie close to his chest, an image of love, something always in and out of their household. ~

Every summer, Alexander’s two grandchildren would come and spend a month with him and his wife. They looked forward to their visit all year, as the children lived overseas and didn’t see them aside from these precious thirty days in July. Every night after dinner, they would all sit on the stoop and enjoy the cool night air. “Tell us a story, grandpa!”, they’d ask every night, and every night he would indulge them with stories of knights and princesses, of pirates, fairies, and magical animals. They would sit, enthralled by his words, as his wife of 50 years peeled oranges with a small smile on her face and passed them around to eat as the children listened. One night, his granddaughter had a different request. “Can you tell us the story of how you met grandma?” she asked and her younger brother’s face brightened at the question. “Yes, grandpa! Tell us!” he insisted. “You want to know how we met?” he asked them, stealing a glance at his wife, who winked at him, as the children both loudly voiced their agreement in unison. He wasn’t surprised at their curiosity - their paths crossing was an unusual stroke of luck that made him a firm believer in destiny. “Okay, let’s see…well, it all started with my brother…” he began as he started to recall that unusually warm fall day, 51 years ago. He was 21 then, just starting his own business as a car mechanic. He had recently opened his own shop and secured a contract with a local taxi and limousine service that would guarantee him enough business that he would be generating a profit within a few weeks. He called his older brother, George, with the intention of making plans to go out and celebrate that night. “I’m sorry, I can’t do it tonight.” George said apologetically, “I promised Ilene I would take her to a concert that she had gotten tickets for with a friend. You should come! Her friend is single, and I know she has an extra ticket because Ilene’s sister was supposed to come too, but she is sick and canceled.” Alex sighed, annoyed. He wanted to celebrate his new business, not be set up with his sister in law’s friend. “Come on, just come!” George pleaded. He wasn’t looking forward to the concert, which from what Ilene described, was some unknown singers and a classical dance troupe from somewhere in Asia. He purposely did not mention that to Alex, because he knew Alex would not agree to come if he did. “Okay, fine.” Alex relented. Maybe they could grab a few drinks after the concert.

“Was grandma Aunt Ilene’s friend?” His granddaughter’s question snapped him out of his reverie. His wife smirked as he answered, “Be patient, I’m getting to that part next.”

George, Ilene, and her friend met Alex outside of the small concert venue. Introductions were made, and Ilene’s friend kept smiling shyly at Alex. He nervously made small talk, but found himself having a hard time to keep the conversation going. They sat at their seats, George on his one side, and the friend on the other. As the curtains lifted, he clapped politely and only then realized he didn’t even know what kind of concert he was attending. A petite woman and two long haired men walked onto the stage with their acoustic guitars and began to sing in a language he did not recognize. Alex settled back into his seat and his mind began to wander. He didn’t particularly enjoy the music, but he was happy to be out with his brother, still feeling the high from the day’s success at work. He could feel Ilene’s friend next to him stealing glances, and he looked over at her and gave her a friendly smile. She flushed and quickly looked away. The sudden applause from the audience made him look back up at the stage. The trio had finished their set, bowed, and walked off stage. The lights dimmed and the audience stopped clapping. There was a short moment of quiet, where all you could hear was the dim murmurs and whispers of the audience members as they waited for the next act to begin. George leaned into his brother and quietly asked, “So, what do you think?” Alex wasn’t sure if he meant the concert or the girl, so he just responded, “Good….it’s good.” His brother gave him a sly grin, wagged his eyebrows and turned back to his wife. Alex rolled his eyes and gave his brother a light punch in the arm. The truth was, he wasn’t all that interested in either the concert, or the girl. The lights on stage brightened and caught Alex’s attention, and when he looked up to the stage, his breath caught for a moment. Up on stage was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Her jet black hair was pulled up into a bun that accentuated her high cheekbones and delicate features, her warm smile reached her deep, chocolate brown eyes, and he could have sworn they caught his as he watched her from his seat, mesmerized. She was accompanied by a dozen other women on stage, all dancers dressed in brightly colored traditional Korean hanbok gowns and holding fans in both hands. Suddenly, the sound of drums began and the women started swaying in perfectly choreographed, elegant movements. Their fans billowed and twirled in hypnotizing rhythm. Alex leaned in closer to the stage, his eyes following every step this beautiful woman took. George, Ilene, her friend, and the rest of the audience faded away and all that was left was the rhythmic banging of the drums, and the woman on the stage. He could see her eyes darken in concentration, smile still on her lips.

“Was THIS woman grandma?” Alex’s granddaughter asked impatiently. She needed to know. “Yes, that was me.” her grandmother finally replied, a smile on her lips. Alex recognized it as the same one from all those years ago, although time had added wrinkles to her delicate face and her once jet black hair was peppered with grays. Her smile still reached her beautiful eyes, and filled his heart with love all these years later. She is even more beautiful now, he thought.

“It was love at first sight.” Alex explained to his grandchildren. “I leaned over and told my brother that I had to meet her because I was going to ask her out on a date. He laughed at me, but I did just that. I waited until the concert was over, told my brother I wouldn’t be joining them for dinner, and asked someone that worked at the concert hall if they’d allow me to meet your grandmother. They asked the dance troupe if they would be willing to meet a fan, and they agreed so I got to go backstage and meet them.” “Then what happened?” his grandson asked, on the edge of his seat now. “Well, it didn’t go as smoothly as I had planned in my mind.” their grandfather laughed.

Alex walked backstage nervously, hands in his pockets. He was never this impulsive and now that he was heading over to the troupe, he had no idea what he was going to say. He didn’t want to come off as weird, asking a total stranger on a date. Would she think he was some kind of crazy stalker? His brother and sister in law were not too happy about him ditching them, and Ilene’s friend barely grunted a goodbye, obviously hurt by his slight. He knew he should feel bad, but his mind was elsewhere, distracted by thoughts of the beautiful woman onstage. The dancers had their backs turned to him and were talking animatedly and laughing, oblivious to him standing there. Suddenly, one of the dancers noticed him and their chatter died down as they turned to face him. “Hello, I’m Alexander and I wanted to say I thought your dance was wonderful.” Alex croaked, then cleared his throat and continued, “I have never seen a dance like that before, I just wanted to let you know I really enjoyed it.” He spotted the beautiful woman and awkwardly repeated, “Hello.” There was a long pause, and finally a Korean man that had been standing off to the side speaking with an employee of the concert venue approached them, arm extended. They shook hands as he explained that he was the dance troupes manager and that most of the dancers only spoke Korean. Their dance troupe was on an international tour and would be moving on to Canada in a few days before returning to Korea. Alex felt like something in his chest deflated. He explained to the manager that he had been hoping to meet one of the dancers to ask her out for coffee and the manager smiled broadly at him. “You are speaking of Mi Jae. She is one that speaks some English. I will ask her for you, but I must insist to chaperone.” he said seriously. Alex nodded enthusiastically, feeling hopeful again. “Yes, of course!” he agreed. The manager walked over to Mi Jae and spoke softly with her. She looked over at Alex, and as the manager continued to speak, her features relaxed into a small smile. She gave her manager a quick nod and walked over to Alex. His heart started beating quickly as she approached him. He couldn’t believe she was going to speak to him. “You are Alex.” she stated. “I am Mi Jae. We will go for coffee? I think it is okay for me.” Alex smiled and agreed to wait for her and her manager out front while she got ready.

“Grandma, did you fall in love with grandpa when you first saw him too?” their granddaughter breathed dreamily. Mi Jae laughed. “Actually, no. I thought he was very handsome, but I didn’t know that I would love him until a little while later.” “When did you know?” the girl pressed. “After I went back to Korea.” Mi Jae answered, and the girls eyes went wide. “You left?? How did you get married if you went back to Korea?” “She came back.” her grandfather smiled.

At the end of their coffee date, Alex asked Mi Jae if she would agree to seeing him again the next day. They only had 3 days together before Mi Jae and her troupe would move on and he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. He didn’t know if he would ever see her again, but he knew the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to get to know her. She agreed to meet him for breakfast and to spend the day together at the beach. The language barrier did not prove to inhibit their communication at all. They talked about their lives, their childhoods, their dreams and aspirations in life. Alex learned that like him, Mi Jae had a brother and two sisters. They both had lost their fathers at a young age, and both carried the weight of their mother’s overbearing expectations. They loved the same music, enjoyed the same books, and both loved their siblings fiercely, protectively. Talking to Mi Jae was so easy, the conversation flowed comfortably all day. They ended the date late at night with the promise to see each other again the next day, both exhausted but filled with the excitement of a new, budding romance. When Alex dropped her off in front of her hotel, she leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips before getting out of the car. He watched her as she walked into the hotel, and as she opened the door, she looked back, smiled and gave him a quick wave goodbye before walking through the door. Alex waited until she was no longer in sight and drove home on a high that lasted all night. The next day was the same as the day before, filled with easy conversation as they got to know each other more. Alex loved the sound of her laughter, the intensity in which she spoke about her future goals and dreams, and the way she seemed to just get him. They spent the day with Alex as her tour guide, showing her his favorite spots around town, and places he thought she would like as well. They walked and talked holding hands, and Alex couldn’t help but think how perfectly they seemed to fit together. He kept trying to push away the thought that she would be gone in just a day, instead focusing on the time they had together. Despite trying not to think of it, the day of her departure arrived. Alex had a lump in his throat, he couldn’t believe how unfair it was. His romance with Mi Jae was so new, so young, and was being cut short before they were ready to say goodbye. She had come into his life like a lightning bolt, he had never felt such intense feelings for a woman so quickly before. They had promised to write, had embraced and cried in each other’s arms the night before when he dropped her off back at her hotel for the last time, but to what end? She would be returning to her life and her family in Korea, thousands of miles away. Would they just end up pen pals? An opportunity missed? He went to the hotel that last morning to say goodbye and as her bus pulled away, he felt dejected and such a sense of loss. He threw himself into his work. His contract with the taxi company proved to be incredibly lucrative, and the pride in owning his own business was fulfilling in a way he had never anticipated. Every Sunday, he wrote her a letter to tell her about his week, his thoughts, to tell her how much he missed her, and waited eagerly for the post to get her weekly letter back. He devoured her words hungrily and was left feeling both happy and empty when he was done reading. Months went by like this. She was now back in Korea, working as a secretary for a prominent judge and teaching dance on the weekends. She told him she missed him, how much she enjoyed their days together and how she wished she could see him again. Through his letters, Mi Jae got to know Alex well. She was always very level headed and pragmatic when it came to love and relationships. She knew the likelihood of their romance being more than long distance love letters was very low, unless one of them made a drastic move. She was not one for grand gestures like in the movies, but she could not seem to get Alex out of her head. She thought with time, her infatuation would fade, but found the opposite to be true. The more they corresponded, the deeper her feelings for him became. His words jumped out of the pages of his letters and seemed to speak to her soul. She found herself falling in love with him, and being apart from him was starting to become unbearable.

Alex’s granddaughter let out a happy sigh. She loved hearing her grandparents talk about their courtship, and she wondered if her future love story would be this romantic. The way they glanced lovingly at each other as they retold the story made her smile.

“One week, I waited for the post to arrive but for the first time since we started writing, there was no letter from your grandmother.” Alex continued, “I was so disappointed. I looked forward to her letters, they were the closest thing I had to being with her. I checked the next day, and the next, but there was nothing.”

“Well, that was rude!” their grandson admonished his grandmother, and both Alex and Mi Jae laughed. Mi Jae put up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I had good reason!” she protested. “She did.” Alex said, nodding his head in agreement. “Four days later, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, there was your grandmother, standing on my front stoop, with a suitcase at her side.” His grandchildren audibly gasped, and he laughed again. “Grandma! You flew back?” their granddaughter exclaimed with glee. “She flew back.” Alex confirmed. “I was in love.” Mi Jae added. “Then what happened?” their grandson asked. Alex looked at his wife and paused for a moment before answering, thinking of their whirlwind romance. He had proposed marriage to her the next day, and they had married six months later. Their daughter - the children’s mother - had arrived promptly one year later, followed by their son. Then they spent half a century building a beautiful life together, encouraging and celebrating each others successes, supporting and lifting each other up during the hardships.

“Happily Ever After.” Alex said, as he squeezed his wife’s hand. He marveled at how it still felt like it fit perfectly in his, after all these years. It felt like home.

My grandson Jackson sat, eyes glued to his computer game. He says it’s called Four Night, whatever that means.

My daughter walked into the living room, quite annoyed with her son. “Now Jackson, you’ve been sitting there since morning; it’s to five now! Pause that game right now and do something with your life; I ain’t raising a game zombie.”

“But mom, this is a live game; you can’t pause!” moaned Jackson.

“Well that ain’t none of my business. You better get off that game and go do something else that doesn’t require an electronic!” She stormed to the kitchen.

I watched as Jack murmured something into his headphones and angrily switched off the game. He spun his swivel chair, facing me.

I sighed. “Well now that you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night, all thanks to your mom, why don’t I tell you a story?”

“Stories are for babies; I ain’t a baby.”

“Well this story is only for grownups and I believe you are one right?”

“Fine…I’ll listen. What’s it about?”

“The day I met my lover.”

Jackson sighed. “I guess I can listen. I don’t have anything to do anyways.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Now where shall I begin…

“I was sitting out in the park like I always do, watching those grey feathered creatures scramble for my bread crumbs. I loved feeding pigeons by the way despite being 19 then. I tossed some more crumbs but something wasn’t right; not as many pigeons were coming.”

“Why?”

“Well turns out someone was sitting just a couple feet away throwing their own bread crumbs.”

“Lemme guess, it was grandma.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it was your grandma stealing away my pigeons. I couldn’t accept that so I stood up and took a seat next to her. I threw some more crumbs; the pigeons rushed for them. She stared at me and smiled saying you do know the birds are for everyone. I looked at her, nodded my head and continued throwing some crumbs.”

“You we’re a weird kid then, grandpa.”

“Well I didn’t know what to say; I’m not all that good with girls.”

“Then why did you sit with her?”

“To get my pigeons back of course. Why else? Anyways, she broke the silence. You’re in college right, she asked. I nodded again and told her I’m a sophomore. She told me she was a freshman and she went to Danna Duke College. Turns out I had some friends there so I told her not knowing what else to say. She smiled and said, that’s cool. She threw more crumbs for the pigeons so I did the same. We watched the birds eat away in awkward silence. Someone ran towards her panting saying her friend told him to get her immediately. Her friend had just gotten into an accident and apparently, with her car. She gasped. She jolted up from her seat, told me bye and said see you around. I told her same then added I do hope your friend’s alright. She smiled and said she knows her friend’s okay, it’s her car she’s worrying about. I laughed a little and waved her goodbye as she scurried off. I threw some more crumbs and sighed in relief. She seemed nice and all but I had no idea what to say.”

“So what happened next?”

“I continued feeding the pigeons. I did see her in the park every now and then and she’d always sit with me. I developed a liking for her but never had the nerve to ask for her address or dormitory number. One day, she just asked for mine and told me hers. Eventually we both feel in love with each other and some years later, we got married!”

“That’s not romantic at all! Where was the love at first sight, the blushing, the…the…”

“Listen Jack, meeting your life partner doesn’t always have to be all lovey-dovey at first sight; sometimes it’s just as simple as a “hi” or a smile to start everything. That’s why most people never get to know who their other half is; they think it has to be a big event. But trust me Jack, the little things turn to big things; it just takes time and dedication. Keep that in mind.”

Oliver said, “How did you meet Grandma?” As a teenager, he had trouble in the dating game.

“We met in college at a dance,” said Grandpa smiling from ear to ear.

“Your grandmother and I lived in the same dorm. The coed dorm had a wall dividing the male side from the female side of the building. A committee held a dance in our lobby,” said Grandpa.

“Was she pretty?” asked Oliver.

“Not striking,but attractive. Looks aren’t the only attraction girls have. Personality and how they treat others means a lot too,” said Grandpa. “Your grandma likes to help people and she ran track and cross country,” said Grandpa.

“Did you play sports, Grandpa?” asked Oliver.

“I played intramural basketball where my team competed against other teams in our college but not against other colleges,” said Grandpa.

“Did Grandma ever come watch?” asked Oliver.

“Yes she’d watched most every game. We had fun,” said Grandpa.

“Did you go in dates?” said Oliver.

“We didn’t have a lot of money. There were free activities on campus like movies and events in the auditorium,” said Grandpa.

“When did you get engaged?” asked Oliver.

“Your grandma graduated after two years of college so it was the summer after she graduated. We went out to eat and saw a movie then we went out to the horse race track behind your Great Grandpa and Grandma’s barn and I proposed marriage,” said Grandpa.

“Wow, did she say yes right away?” asked Oliver.

“She did. Then we were engaged for two years and have been married ever since,” said Grandpa.

“I hope I meet someone like you did someday,” said Oliver.

“We’ll there’s no rush. God will lead you to the right young lady in time,” said Grandpa.

I met her at a park and we started talking. we went out to eat and we became bf and gf a few months later. 2 years later i asked her to be my wife and she said yes! there u have it.

“Please, grandpa! Tell us one more time!” Anna and Timothy excitedly kicked their feet. “Alright, alright. Settle down. I’ll only tell it to you one more time, so you better be listening.” I responded. With every passing tick of the clock, my memory of her never fades. My love never seems to dwindle, only grow stronger as time goes on. “We’re all ears, grandpa!” Little Anna and Timothy cup their hand behind their ears, and turn to face me in their beds. “Well, it all started on a cold, dark, and depressing afternoon.” I stop abruptly to give it the dramatic effect. “I was on my way home after serving in the Vietnam War. I had gotten a one way ticket home back to my little hometown. Once I arrived, I went straight to my house to surprise my parents. Only, they weren’t there. No one was. There was a for sale sign.” I continued. Anna and Timothy gasp. “I asked everyone around town what happened to them. But I asked multiple people because I wasn’t sure I believed them. However, everyone said the same thing: m-my parents had died in a car crash.” I look up for a moment, smiling at the best parents in the whole world. “I didn’t have any other family members so I was forced to live outside for a while. A few months later after I got home, I wanted to stop by my old house. But when I got there, the for sale sign was gone, and someone was already moving in.” I look at the pictures of her on the mantle and smile. Little Anna has her ears. Timothy has her eyes. “There was a girl there—a few years younger than me. I would watch her plant things in the garden everyday on my way to work. Myriads of peonies and roses, daffodils, tulips, poppies, and so much more laid out in the front lawn. And one day, while I was on my way to work on my bike, I was too distracted from watching her, that I got hit by a car right in front of that house.” A worried expression crosses of Timothy’s face. I scratch my beard. “I suffered minor injuries, but healed up really quick because of your grandmothers herbs and medicines. She fixed up my wounds, and she let me stay at her house—which used to be mine but is now mine again and the house that we are in as we speak. I was still living outside at the time. Those first few weeks that we lived together, we already became inseparable. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, years turned into decades. And everyday I continue loving her. I’ll continue loving her every second, even when I’m gone one day.” Huge grins form on Anna and Timothy’s face as they jump out of bed and tackle me with a huge hug.

Kirby, the youngest of my grandchildren, lay on the picnic blanket beside me, her chin resting in her hands and her feet swinging in the air.

“Grandad, tell us the one about your first car”, she chirped, looking up at me with those wide glassy eyes. I grinned, ready to answer her when the middle one spoke up.

August, with his mop of reddish brown hair and wide circle lenses perched on his nose, looked like an ancient philosopher trapped in the body of a twelve year old boy. He paused momentarily from the sketch in the notepad on his lap and rolled his eyes.

“Kirbs, you ask for that story every time. How about a new one. Any ideas Lyn?”, he said ruefully, but I could see a smile peeping from the corners of his mouth.

Further away, not even seated on the picnic blanket, but sitting on a nearby bench with his eyes glued to the phone in his hand, was Lyndon.

He was so busy on that phone of his, that he missed his brothers question completely. At fifteen years old he was the spitting image of his father at that age, right down to the angsty, moody personality.

I raised my eyebrows and cleared my throat.

“Lyndon. Your brother is talking to you”, I snapped, slightly irritated. It was one of those rare occasions where my son Andrew managed to get enough time off work to make the drive to visit me. Spending time with my grandchildren was all I wanted to do today while Andrew and his wife explored the city, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with Lyndon’s poor attitude.

Lyndon looked up for a brief second and rolled his eyes.

“You pick, Gust. I don’t really care for stories right now”

August sighed and pondered the question, tapping his pencil on his notebook.

Finally, his eyes brightened, and he looked up with a sly smile.

“Tell us about the first time you met Gracie”, he crooned teasingly.

I couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter, the name bringing back a bout of memories with it.

Gracie, my ex wife, was- and still is- a firecracker of a woman. Even now, at almost 70 years old, she lives on a houseboat off the coast, the perfect place for her to unleash her adventurous and creative personality in peace. Though we had split more than a two decades ago, the sound of her name still pulled at a sentimental string in my chest.

Kirby let out a giggle and swung her feet back and forth excitedly. With that whimsical laugh of hers and tongue- in- cheek grin, she was Gracie in every sense.

“Ooohh yes grandad. Tell us about how you fell in looooove”, she cooed, batting her eyes playfully.

I shoved her lightly and her laugher only increased.

“Oh you little trickster”, I joked.

“Okay. Do y’all want to hear that story? How I met Gracie?”, I prodded.

Both August and Kirby nodded bashfully, their eyes shining and their attention fully turned to me. I snuck a glance at Lyndon.

“You too, Lyn?”, I asked.

He glanced up quickly and sighed.

“Whatever”, he said flatly.

But I noticed the way his fingers froze over the screen, staying still until the phone screen turned black. Though he didn’t like to show it, his attention was now fully turned to me. I smiled softly at this.

Lyndon was always the one Gracie got along with the best out of all the grandkids. Though she was a bursting ray of sunshine and he was the little storm cloud, together they seemed to compliment each other perfectly. She was the one who would go with him for those long walks in the forest, him with his expensive camera in hand, and her with her watercolor paints.

I sighed and took a deep breath, pushing my memory of the event from the deep recesses of my mind to the tip of my tongue.

“Well, as you all know, your Grandma Gracie is quite the artist. In fact, when she was twenty-two years old, our local gallery chose her specifically as the feature artist of the month. It just so happened that on one fine summer day, when me and my best friend Marco went to the gallery to check out the new exhibit, low and behold there were her creations……and by god they were the ugliest things I had ever seen”, I said, the day still fresh in my mind.

Augusts lips pulled into a smile and Kirby hid a giggle behind her tiny hand.

I looked up to see Lyndon peering at me with a raised eyebrow, his phone now laying abandoned facedown on the bench.

“Grandad, according to her, you just have bad taste in art”, Lyndon clipped with a smirk. As he spoke I could practically hear her voice filling his lips with those very words.

I grinned and shook my head, “no, trust me, her art was terrible. There’s a fine line between being an eccentric artist and being a terrible artist. And while I admire Gracie’s creativity and wit, the things she comes up with are downright atrocious”.

“I made it known, quite outwardly to Marcos just how ugly the whole exhibit was, right down to the font choice in the brochure about her exhibit that she made. Imagine my surprise when I turned around to find a short redhead in stained blue overalls and sky high curly hair glaring at me as if I were the most vile thing on the planet”, I continued. I took a quick sip of the glass of lemonade sitting beside the picnic basket to wet my throat and continued.

“She went off on me, telling me how terrible I was and how I must’ve been blind or stupid to not see what true art was. At the time I was torn between amusement and fear because this girl looked like she was ready to kill me right then and there with the paintbrush sticking out of her pocket. Shortly after the little argument we had, which mostly consisted of her yelling at me while I tried to defend myself, I left the gallery. For the rest of the month, every day until her exhibit was over, I came to the gallery to look at the art, trying to see everything through her eyes”.

Kirby held up her hand and I looked down at her. “Yes, Kirby?”

She pursed her lips and frowned, “and? Did you like the art eventually?”, she asked.

I laughed and shook my head, “no, I most definitely did not. But overtime I grew to like the artist more and more. She was the one piece of art that I came to see every day”.

Lyndon I wrinkled his nose and groaned.

“Cheeeeeesy”, he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes.

August let out a laugh and nodded his head at his brothers words.

“I agree with Lyndon. Big time cheesy, grandad”, he added.

Kirby rolled her eyes and sat up so she was now sitting cross legged, her eyes gone starry and wide.

“I think it’s so romantic. They were in looooove”, she purred, clasping her chest like a wounded soldier. We all let out a giggle at her display, the sound of it wafting in the wind and filling the park with mirth.

Suddenly, August frowned. He pushed his glasses up his nose and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So why did you guys break up then?”, he prodded, the question quiet and curious.

I felt the smile on my face waver and I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat.

“That’s a story for another day. There’s too much to unpack there and y’all are not quite ready for that”, I said, trying to keep my voice light.

Kirby’s brows knitted together in confusion.

“You still love each other though, right?”, she asked innocently.

Lyndon tsked and shot her a pointed look.

“You can’t just ask people that. It’s a personal question, Kirbs”, he reprimanded, though his tone was not unkind.

I waved my hand in the air dismissively.

“No, no, it’s okay. Totally valid question. Yes, I do still love her. But it’s a different kind of love. Like…..”, I paused to think, trying to find a way to phrase it so they would understand. “I love her like she’s my bestest friend in the entire world, my other half, and everything I see as being light and warm and beautiful in this world. But we are not in love anymore. We just love each other”, I finish, hoping my answer was sufficient. They nod in understanding and eventually, the topic changes and morphs until it is something entirely different.

Later, when the kids are fighting over a ball in the field, playing a no-rules game of soccer, I pull out my wallet and reach for the back slot. There, I find the piece of paper folded neatly in square and open it. The faded paper features bright, colorful streaks of color and sculptures in the most peculiar of shapes. There, on the last page, is a picture of a young girl, her wild red curls held back with a paintbrush and her bright yellow sweater stained with a splat of green paint at the collar. Underneath her picture, in that horrible bubble font that I hate to this day, is her name: Gracie Welds.

I runny finger over the old, wrinkled paper, marveling at the way it withstood time all these years. I must’ve been to the gallery a hundred times that summer, taking a new brochure each day. But one had found it’s way into my wallet one day and it had been there ever since. I smile softly, the sounds of the childrens laughter filling my chest with warmth. I just the folded crease of the brochure- a habit I do far too often now and tuck it back into my wallet. There was so much I wished to fill the children on in the story of Gracie and I, but even after all these years, I still couldn’t speak about her for more than 10 minutes without wishing I could jump back into that story and fix everything before it fell apart.

“Tell us again!” They cheered sitting at my feet. I chuckled at looked over to my wife of 50 years and she gave a small giggle and nodded her head. “So back when Astoria and Aragon were at war I was a soldier for the Queen. After that I was promoted to her personal guard. I had always fancied her but was never able to tell Her Majesty so I kept it to myself.” I began nodding over toward my wife. “One day the Aragonian guards broke in and demanded the Queen so I hid her in the closet. That wasn’t the best hiding spot but it was all we had within the heat of the moment.” I chuckled as he she let out a small laugh shaking her head at the memory. “Well I was completely unaware she had dragons so when she wasn’t in the closet when I finished I panicked. I searched everywhere for her. I went outside and there she was!” I yelled pointing to the window. They all giggled “She said “Hop on!” and so I did and that’s the day I fell in love with her!” I smiled as I pulled her in for a kiss “Ewww” they said . I quickly kissed her on the cheek this time and they still laughed and said “Ew”. This was heaven.

He mined for wordy treasures. And looked for love signs and signals, in this poem and that.

Searching ‘The Ground of The Greys’, Gramps had gone the extra mile to find his soul-twin. And in doing so, he’d opened an Earth-chest, full of wisdom and hope.

“I met Nanna on the Splinternet.”

Gramps’ stories required the attention of a harrier hawk. He’d glide over important stages of his life in a skip, without a second thought.

“We were on the cusp of change. A fractured Nation. Libraries still opened their doors to those in search of authenticity. Of course, there was Tweeto, Faceshook —and boy did it shake! And Dwindler and InstaBam! But the only thing that crawled out of those places was jerked beef! True love was a rarity amongst people.”

Gramps was born in Black and White. For those that progressed to Technicolor, life was not much different. Most people skipped Warnercolor and turned to KodakShine. Even though people had different ideas, they all had hope for the future. A lifetime away, from ‘The Ground of The Greys.’

“Things weren’t as established back then. They were frail times. Nowadays, you order a Blue95, Red60 or HotYou33 and you’re good to go.”

“But Gramps, that’s cheating!”

“There’s no such thing as cheating when it comes to love. You either do it, or you won’t. Have it or you don’t.”

“And now Gramps? —What about now?”

“Always and forever boys. But If I had the chance all over again? —I would gobble a HotYou33 and a Throttle18! —O’how I loved that woman! Your Nanna was a one.”

Travis shuffled about on a thick, muscular thigh. And George clung to Gramps’ other one.

‘Gramps was going to be an athlete one day.’ The boys just knew it.

Travis and George sunk into Gramps’ broad chest. They loved it when he made his pecs talk. Gramps would give each pec a high pitched ladies voice. And when his pecs really got to chatter, the boys would giggle and their heads would bounce about.

“She had the most beautiful wrinkled turned down mouth. The kind that drooped in the corners and made me want to smile for an eternity. I knew it would rise with every waking sun. And a centimetre with every passing decade.

Her cloudy cataracts, were just a temporary visor. Behind the veil, her youthful soul would flutter a royal wave. Her thick brows kept warm her perfectly round face, and gave me much expression. Her bush…

Travis? Are you listening? George? wake up!…

Her bushy caterpillars, would rise and fall at my every joke. Wispy hairs would tickle my lip.

In time, her dentures gave way to strong, ivory keys. On closer inspection, I noted the black ones too, but she was half way to a gorgeous grin.

She would mumble melodies, and could hum with 3 or 4 humbugs in her mouth at the same time! She was a perfect picture, with a pitch perfect voice.

By her 50s, she had a bell hooked nose, that chimed with the changing seasons. Her rattles were wedding bells to my ears. She was cultural change itself! A face full of enthusiasm and an eye full of twinkle.

And when she finally grew to 24, her truest beauty rewarded my patience, and long suffering. She was MAGNIFICENT!”

Gramps shuddered hard, all over. Mindful of the vulnerabilities of the boys, he firmed himself. Asthenia had set in, and the boys were not permitted to choose a path until the issue was settled.

Travis and George were grateful for Gramps’ insight. Youths returning to old age were easily phased. Reminiscing about anything in ‘The Ground of The Greys’ would send most young people into an unusual, frightful state. Not Gramps. Gramps was a trooper. He was all about punching fear in the face. Nanna was his only wobble.

Nanna had grown too young.