Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game(39)

With a shrug, I’d protest, “But I’m not good at sports, Granddaddy.” After all, each and every one of his sons and grandsons were involved in some sport. For years, he practically lived at either the baseball diamond, the football stadium, the basketball gym.

Granddaddy’s worn and wrinkled hand would come to stroke his weathered chin thoughtfully. “Being athletic is a good talent to have, son, but one day it is of no use to you. My boys shone as bright stars once upon a time, but now all that has dimmed. It served them well with scholarships, but not a one is still using their talents. But music…” His face would break into a wide grin. “Music is timeless. I’ve played all the days of my life, and I’ll play until my dying day.”

My conversations with Granddaddy always felt kinda like Forest Gump and his mama. He always had a way of explaining things to me to where I could not only understand, but I could also get the bigger meaning out of. He could make me feel ten feet tall with just a look.

I’d just started tenth grade when he started acting funny. He’d forget things, or he’d make all the wall statements. Mom and Grammy got worried that he might have the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s Disease. So, they finally convinced him to go to the doctor.

But he didn’t have Alzheimer’s. Instead, a MRI revealed he had a brain tumor. Something called Glioblastoma. A real badass tumor that’s like a spider. It has a fat body that surgery can remove, but it’s the spider-like legs that get imbedded in your brain and f**k up your life.

Granddaddy’s diagnosis was one of those life-altering moments when you’re sure the earth skidded to a stop on its axis. It would have to, wouldn’t it? How was it possible for the world to keep right on turning when my Granddaddy was going to die?

Yet somehow it did. Within my family, it was a hellish blur of agony. Grammy brought Granddaddy home, and Mom and her siblings rallied around to take care of him. They moved a hospital bed into the living room, so there’d be more room for him to be surrounded by his family. My uncles took turns staying nights. They didn’t want to leave Grammy or my mom by themselves.

One night, I stayed up with him. It was close to the end, and he’d been sleeping most of the time. I was trying to read a book for my literature class when he opened his eyes and glanced over at me. “Noah,” he whispered.

“What’s wrong, Granddaddy? You need something?”

He shook his head. With a weak flick of his wrist, he beckoned me closer. “Want to tell you somethin’.” His voice was gravely and weak as if it took everything in him to speak. I leaned forward as far as I could on my chair beside the bed. My elbows pressed into the metal railings of his hospital bed.

“I’m right here, Granddaddy.”

He smiled. “You know, I was so angry when your mama got pregnant. I didn’t want her to keep you. I wanted her to give you to a family who could provide for you better than she could.”

I gasped as his words stung me. I couldn’t imagine these were the final thoughts he wanted to tell me.

He gave a little rattle of a laugh. “I ain’t finished, son.”

I gave him a relieved smile. “Oh, okay.”

“But the minute you were born, your mama called for me. I went into that room still bound and determined for her to give you up. But there she was holding you to her chest, and the love she had for you was written all over her face. She handed you to me, and I took you in my arms…” Tears welled in Granddaddy’s dark eyes. “And it was instant love. The same love I’d had for my boys and for your mama. I knew right then and there you were meant to be with your mama and with our family.”

Although I tried fighting them, tears pooled in my eyes and spilled over my cheeks. Damn them! I didn’t want his last sight of me to be that of a blubbering pansy.

As if he could read my mind, Granddaddy shook his head. “Don’t be ashamed of your emotions, Noah. Experience them and embrace them. They’re what make us alive and strong.”

I nodded. “I’ll try.”

“There’s something I want you to have, and I’ve told all the boys.”

“What is it, Granddaddy?” My mind whirled with possibilities. He wanted me to have his rifle with the silver casing, or the pinky ring his mother had given him. I was off by a long shot.

“It’s the Sullivan family Bible.” The look on my face betrayed me again because Granddaddy chuckled. “Thought I had a treasure for you, huh?”

“Maybe.”

He grinned. “It is a treasure, Noah. It came all the way over from Ireland with my father. It’s been passed down through many generations. It’s supposed to be given to the first son of every family, but I want you to have it.”

“But why me Granddaddy?”

“Because you need it. Mark is already the strong head of his family. But you’re missing part of yourself because of your father. This Bible will show you that no matter what happens with him, you’re whole. When you’ve got family who love you and care about you like our family, Noah, you’re a rich man.”

“Then I’ll take it.”

He smiled. “Good. And one day years from now, you’ll turn to the words themselves for answers, and when you do, you’ll find more treasure there within its pages.”

“We’ll see,” I said.