Here’s the next and final part of a true fiction-like-but-true story. (Part 1 and 2 are in my two prior posts.)

“I have no memories whatsoever of living with my own parents. They were divorced when I was two years old, neither ready for a baby. My dad’s main priority was drinking, my mom was escaping the drinking and the abuse. Which landed me thank God, in my grandparent’s house. My parents were still around at this point, mom still had legal custody of me. But my grandparents were the ones who got me off to school, made sure my homework was done, my clothes were clean, I never went hungry, and I always was tucked in at night.  My dad was supposed to get me on the weekends…but only after he would go out drinking with his buddies.  He would tell me “I’ll pick you up at 8:00 tonight,” and funny enough every time he said that Papaw would send me to bed about a half hour early, just so he could say, “She’s asleep, why don’t you pick her up tomorrow.”  I watched from the window a lot, my dad rarely showed up, but that was Papaw’s way of protecting me.

“He’d walked to work every day, and at 4:00 p.m. grandma and I would go pick him up and I would see him coming and run through the guard house to meet him, I think it was his too.  He loved that people thought I was his little girl, he ate that up.  We would go home and as soon as dinner and homework were done, he would take me to the park. Some of my favorite memories…a place where I take my nieces and nephews now.  He would play barbies, and dolls, and waitress with me for hours on end.  He used to read me a book every night before bed, but I always asked him to read chapters out of sequence so normally they never even made sense. All of this and so many other little details of my life changed when I was about to start 2nd grade.

“I went with my mom for a few days (she and my dad still had joint custody) but this time I didn’t come back when expected. I started my second grade year in Florida. I wasn’t allowed to have any contact with my dad, grandparents or anyone. I was 7 years old…I had no idea why, but I knew I was supposed to listen to my mom. So a year went by and I hadn’t seen the rest of my family. I hadn’t talked to them, they had no idea where I was. They didn’t know I was living with my mom and her 3rd husband at this point.

“One day I was sitting in class learning about Blue Whales, and I had this pretty blue dress on. I was a good student so when I was overlooked when they passed out honor roll pins I was sure that’s why they were calling me to the office.  So I took the long walk down the hallway (I even did a cartwheel cause I knew no one would catch me) into the principal’s office to find a policeman, a very large man in a suit, my principal, and my Papaw.  sitting on one knee crying and waiting to see how I would react. I jumped into his arms, so confused and scared by everything, but so happy to see him. I was sitting in the room when they called my mom to tell her they would be taking me back to Gallipolis right then. My goodbye to my mother was hearing her scream and cry over the phone for them not to take me. That was it. I walked outside to get in my Papaw’s car (without my pencil I might add) and in the back seat was a blanket, pillow, and my favorite baby doll that I hadn’t seen in so long. It was going to be a long trip. But the blanket and the pillow were a waste. Looking back, I stayed up every second of that trip talking to my grandpa, laughing and singing with him like no time had went by.

“After the winds had calmed a bit and the court told my mother that she could now only have visitation with me if she was monitored and she resided in Ohio, I didn’t see my mom for 4 years. My dad had sole custody of me, but I know now the only reason he even bothered was so he could hurt my mom. I was back where I belonged though…

“Papaw was the president of the athletic boosters, he never missed one of my games, gymnastic meets, cheerleading competitions, parent teacher conferences. Nothing. He was always there along with my grandma. He was my very best friend. And how many pre-teen girls would have said that. I was never ashamed of him, as most kids go through the stage where they are embarrassed by the parents…not me.  And he knew that. There are 5 other grandchildren besides me, one that Papaw had never met one who is too little to remember him. But this person I described to you is how we all see him.

“I was only 13 years old when I lost my best friend and father figure….He lost his daddy when he was 5 and his mom when he was 13. It’s so hard now to think about it because I see the hospital, and I see the tubes, and machines that were keeping him alive. He had a heart attack, and after the surgery he just never came out of it. I was allowed to go back and see him once before they turned off the machine. And he squeezed my hand, which was the only movement or response he had in days, or weeks (I can’t remember now). Everyone says that it was probably just a flinch, or a reaction, he didn’t really squeeze my hand. And they are probably right, but I like thinking that it did happen.

“Now I am 24 years old. I’ve graduated college. I have a good job….I realize this may all seem so useless to you, but when someone has impacted your life so much and someone who has never met him has negative thoughts about him, you want to do your best to bring out some positive. I pass Cheshire several times a week, and before your poem, I thought about the park, and where my house used to sit, and I thought about the places where I learned to ride my bike; since I read it I feel a little sick passing through…I wonder where, and who wrote that on there. I wonder if they have any idea that there is more to Sonny Smith than just a bald guy.  Thank you for your time, Krista.”