A Box from the Past
As I was searching for a lost cd in my parents basement I came across a boot box. It was near some of my old stuff so I decided to take a peek. When I opened the box I knew exactly where it came from. It took me back about six years. It placed me at my Grandma Zczyiel's. Right in her living room. She was sick at the time and I was there keeping her company. I remember bringing over Rebecca (my first guitar) and showing it to her. Grandma was so excited. She couldn't wait to hear some music from me. At the time I couldn't do much with it but admire what future sounds that might come from it. She was there on the couch with some old newspaper clippings. She was telling me that she wanted me to have them. As I scanned through them I realized they were articles and small wordings about myself during my high school basketball days. She had kept them all. I told her thanks but left the box there to later come for it. I remember putting the box away and then going to sit on the couch with her. As my grandma sat there basically struggling for that next breath I began talking to her about my girlfriend LeeAnn. As I rambled on and on about my feelings for her I told her that I was going to ask her to marry me. Grandma was the first person I had told. She looked at me and said she was so happy. She continued saying how much she loved LeeAnn and what a nice girl she was. But it was among the next words that came out that stuck with me. "I'm sorry that I'm not going to be there to see you marry her." I down-played those words as any grandson would, but in my heart knew she was right.
Grandma became so sick she was put in a home with full care. I went to see her every weekend. She seemed to be doing well. I even smuggled in some McDonalds fries for her. After a while in there she was doing great, playing games, laughing... One night, out of the blue, after class I remember a knock on the door. Rob, my good buddy, and I were 1 hour away in Kalamazoo so visitors were not expected. I recall opening the door to see my mom. She didn't have to say a word. I looked in her eyes and I knew. As LeeAnn and my dad entered I was trying to play it off and just act some-what normal. I didn't cry, weep, or show anything really. We talked and eventually they all had to go home. I retreated back to my room and picked up that guitar and wrote my first song.
It took me about three days before I broke down about my grandma. I don't ever remember crying so hard. I should have spent more time with her, I could have been nicer at times, I could have I could have...
It's been nearly 6 years or so since we buried my grandma. I wish I could play the guitar for her now as I'm okay at it. I do remember the things she told me. The laughing moments, the frustration, and the "Oh Tony..." I loved her and I regret that she will never know how much.
As I leafed through the box all the emotions came back. There I was in my parent's basement alone, cold, and experiencing time travel. As I placed the other material things back in the box I kept out the newspaper clippings. She always told me that I should put these in a book one day for my kids. She always loved to come and watch me play basketball. I can still see her in the stands.
I put the box back where I had found it. One day I'll come back for it again. As I held the newspaper clippings in my hand I turned the light off. There in the dark as I walked up the steps I could feel that I wasn't alone.
Grandma became so sick she was put in a home with full care. I went to see her every weekend. She seemed to be doing well. I even smuggled in some McDonalds fries for her. After a while in there she was doing great, playing games, laughing... One night, out of the blue, after class I remember a knock on the door. Rob, my good buddy, and I were 1 hour away in Kalamazoo so visitors were not expected. I recall opening the door to see my mom. She didn't have to say a word. I looked in her eyes and I knew. As LeeAnn and my dad entered I was trying to play it off and just act some-what normal. I didn't cry, weep, or show anything really. We talked and eventually they all had to go home. I retreated back to my room and picked up that guitar and wrote my first song.
It took me about three days before I broke down about my grandma. I don't ever remember crying so hard. I should have spent more time with her, I could have been nicer at times, I could have I could have...
It's been nearly 6 years or so since we buried my grandma. I wish I could play the guitar for her now as I'm okay at it. I do remember the things she told me. The laughing moments, the frustration, and the "Oh Tony..." I loved her and I regret that she will never know how much.
As I leafed through the box all the emotions came back. There I was in my parent's basement alone, cold, and experiencing time travel. As I placed the other material things back in the box I kept out the newspaper clippings. She always told me that I should put these in a book one day for my kids. She always loved to come and watch me play basketball. I can still see her in the stands.
I put the box back where I had found it. One day I'll come back for it again. As I held the newspaper clippings in my hand I turned the light off. There in the dark as I walked up the steps I could feel that I wasn't alone.
Comments