i want to run to driggs, skip up that narrow side walk, climb up those tiny steps, and hop onto his lazy boy with him. or even the one cool chair with the remote to make it rise and decrease in height, the one grandma hates for us to play with, but the one i remember seeing my grandpa last sit in as he told grandma she looked like she was gaining a little weight as she cleaned the family room. he winked at me and smiled. he knew how to push her buttons, and he didn't do it out of harshness, he did it because he was grandpa and he could.
i miss that red flannel button up. not a lumber jack flannel, a fancy one. the one i always looked for when i would run out into the bustling crowd after dance recitals and competitions.
the one he would wear when he dropped me off at school. me, worried that he wouldn't find his way back home. and him excited to come pick me up for lunch.
that red flannel is what i always remember him wearing as he would fall asleep rocking grand kids back and forth, preparing the fire pit for our traditional family bonfires, sneaking treats out of the pantry hoping that grandma wouldn't catch him, and leaning against some wall, some where, admiring his family as if we were all celebrities filming a movie.
on random weeks, on random days, at random times, i feel you here. and as i peek over my shoulder, the last thing i see is that red flannel.
please stay longer next time.
i have so much to tell you.
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