William always admired his grandfather, Phillip. My father, mother, and I lived with my maternal grandfather in a large family home. We occupied the main portion, while Grandpa had his own small room.
Every Sunday, we gathered for dinner. Grandpa Phillip always emphasized the importance of this tradition.
One intense conversation deeply impacted me when I was 7 years old.
“Mary, I’m leaving you. I’ve met someone else. If you can, forgive me. I plan to start a new life in this house, so you have a week to find somewhere else to live.”
These words from my father seemed unbelievably cold. My mother couldn’t hold back her tears. Her tears silently rolled down her cheeks as she began packing and dialed Grandma to let her know that we’d soon be coming.
Grandpa, returning my mother’s things to their place, said:
“Mary, I won’t let you lose your home! Quickly gather this scoundrel’s things.”
“What? This is my house, and I intend to live here with my new wife!”
“Try it. I told you to leave this house and find another place,” Grandpa firmly added, his gaze overpowering.
“No wonder they call you a wizard in the village!”
“I’m a seer, not a wizard. And my instincts don’t betray me.”
Grandpa turned to Mom:
“I always wished for a daughter, and God gave me you. Stay here with your son; I’m always here for you.”
My father left, and I never saw him again. I heard he went abroad with his new wife.
I grew up with Grandpa, who was like a father to me, though he was strict. When I did something wrong, he made me do chores.
Skipped school? I’d herd sheep. Upset Mom? I’d chop wood.
At 20, my friends and I decided to go to the seaside. Mom was on a business trip, so I made the decision myself. As I began packing, Grandpa noticed.
“Where are you heading?”
“To the beach. You won’t stop me?”
“You won’t complete the journey. I won’t allow it.”
“Grandpa, I’m an adult and can decide for myself!”
I took my things, but my legs wouldn’t move. He just watched me silently.
The next day, we heard the bus we were meant to take had been in an accident. I didn’t pay much attention then, but now I realize Grandpa sensed the danger and saved my life.
Grandpa passed away a few years ago. To be honest, I didn’t mourn much because he was strict.
I now have a family, and a daughter named Mary, after my mother. One evening, we went to a hill. It was getting late, and I urged us to leave, but Mary wanted to slide down the hill once more near the road. I agreed.
She went down too fast and headed straight for the road. At that moment, my heart stopped.
Suddenly, the sled halted as if hitting an invisible wall.
“Mary, are you alright?”
“Yes, Dad. But where’s Grandpa?”
“What Grandpa?”
“The one who came onto the road, stopped my sled, and said I shouldn’t sled here. He said arguing with him was pointless.”
I realized Grandpa somehow protected us. He taught me about life, and I’m grateful to him for that.
