I go to the courthouse to get my driver’s license. As I walk down the hallway towards the treasurer, I see a man in the clerk’s office. We look at each other at the same time, our eyes lock, but I quickly look away in disbelief.

After I get my license I walk by the office again. The man is gone. My car was parked in front of the courthouse, but now it is nowhere in sight. It disappeared just like the man in the office. I look down the block to see my car parked on the side of the street. As I near the car, I can see a man in my passenger seat. The same man from the office, the same man I saw for the last time eight years ago, my grandpa.
I sit outside my car for a few minutes, trying to gather my thoughts and process what was happening. All I can think is, how? After a good five minutes, I open the car door slowly and sit down. I turn to look at him. Tears beg to be released, but I shut my eyes to contain them. I feel the warm, rough hand of my grandpa grab mine. His presence instantly takes away the feelings of doubt and fear. I open my eyes; the sight of him makes me so happy, overjoyed. The biggest smile spreads across my face. He matches my smile with one of his own, a smile so big I can see the scattered shiny fillings inside his mouth. We sit in silence, the tears stream down my cheeks. He pulls out his handkerchief and gives it to me to dry my tears. The hug I receive lasts for so long it makes up for the one I’ve missed out on for the last eight years.  He tells me no more crying over him today, and tells me to take him home.
We drive back to my house. When I walk in, my mom gives me a casual greeting. She does not acknowledge my grandpa. I look at him in confusion, my face asks, “Why can’t she see you?” Just before I am about to question it, he places his hand on my arm. He tells me not to worry. I go grab a few things before we leave, and when I get back upstairs, grandpa is playing with the cat. Then I ask him if he’s ready to go home; his face lights up and we head to the farm. We climb into the car and head down Highway 14.
The first place that I think to go to spend the day with my grandpa is the river. When we get the driveway, I turn left towards the river instead of going to the house. Once we reach the fence, grandpa gets out to open it just as he has a million times before. He climbs back in and we head to the spot with the prettiest view.
The shade tree we sit under is tall and old. Colorful leaves are beginning to fall to the ground. I lay out a blanket to sit on, and grandpa pulls a package out of his pocket. It is filled with some of my favorite things; fudge-stripes shortbread cookies, a bottle of tang, and some of my grandma’s chocolate chip cookie bars. I look at him, he remembers.
I mention the Little Golden Books he used to read to me while sitting in the fuzzy green chair, which is still in their living room. He laughs that laugh that I miss hearing everyday in the summer.
We sit by the water for hours. There are questions inside me that have been in my mind since he left, but I am hesitant to ask them. The topics of conversation change from one to another, but the peaceful silence between us is something I wish could have everyday. I glance over at him while he is admiring the scene in front of us. He looks exactly how I remember him, happy. The rays shining between the leaves make his silvery gray hair sparkle. He’s wearing one of my favorite plaid shirts with pearl buttons. I think I had seen that outfit more times in my life than I could count. He’s always wearing that twinkle in his eyes.
I’ve always thought about this day, I just didn’t expect it would come so soon. He knew it was the right time to come, at this time when I needed most. I summon the courage to ask a question I’ve wanted to ask all day. I ask, “Grandpa, what’s it like up there?”
A bright smile appeared on his face. And the words came spilling out.
“Well,” he replies, “I’ve heard it’s different for everyone, but my heaven is days like these. I wait for days like these when I can come back here and see how much you kids have grown.”
I sat there for hours listening to him talk about his heaven. I savored every sentence, every word, and every syllable that escaped his lips. The words were so vivid; I could picture everything in my head. We sat there until sun started setting. When it was close, I knew grandpa would soon have to leave. I tried to make the next few minutes last forever. It just didn’t seem fair for him to have to say goodbye. I asked a few final questions and received the answers I was looking for. This day I have spent with my grandpa gave me strength and confidence I never knew I had in myself.
He tells me how proud he is of me. He reminds me that no matter how mean people are, you are always nice. The worse they treat you the nicer you are, kill them with kindness. Be so friendly you take the fight out of their unkind words. He gives me one last hug before he has to go, and kisses me on top of my head. He tells me he loves me and that he is proud of the things I’ve accomplished. He says he will be back the minute I need him. Last goodbyes are exchanged. I watch my grandpa get up and cross the cold river. He crosses over the fence and walks into the sunlight. The silhouette of my grandpa slowly disappears. I can still feel his presence, and I know it will stay with me forever.
I go lay down and watch the sun sink behind the horizon. The sky quickly turns black, with no lights but the stars and moon. I hear the coyotes howl and I know he’s made it back home. A shooting star flashes across the sky and winks to sleep along with the others. Goodnight gramps.