Wherever You Go by Heather Davis Read Free Book Online

many of those since he'd arrived, but as I sat with him on the bench, it was like my old grandpa was back. When I looked into his eyes, he seemed
there.
More there than he'd been in days. "Yeah, it's nice," I replied.
    He squeezed my hand and leaned in closer to me, his smile fading. "Listen, I want you to know things aren't quite right with me."
    I sucked in a breath, surprised. "Yeah?"
    "I can't remember things too well. I get confused. Something is wrong."
    "Yeah, I know. Grandpa, you have a disease called Alzheimer's. It affects your brain."
    He scratched at his left cheek, along the line of stubble. "It was so lonely over at the house without your nana." His blue eyes were watery, and suddenly he seemed to be drifting away. "I miss her so much."
    "I know. Do you remember living in the apartment?"
    He nodded. "It was lonely there, too. But I had
Judge Judy.
"
    I giggled. I hadn't heard him make a joke in the last few days. I was reminded of when I'd been even younger than Lena was now and I'd spent weekends with my grandparents in their big old house on Queen Anne Hill. It was never dull there.
    Sometimes, Grandma and I had cooked
pizelle
or fried fresh
zeppole.
She wasn't Italian like Grandpa, but she'd learned to cook the things he loved. Together she and I had crunched through the sweet treats, laughing at the crumbs and the powdered sugar left around each other's mouths. Grandpa Aldo was usually working on something in the garage, or out in the back garden taking care of his zucchini and tomatoes. Always, he'd cracked little jokes, and threatened to spray me with the hose. The garden had gotten overgrown and too hard to manage as they both aged. The beautiful house was sold long ago.
    "I miss Grandma too," I said.
    "We had many good times." He let go of my hand and reached into his back pocket. "I want to show you something." He unfolded his dark brown leather wallet and pulled out a small square of paper.
    I took it from his outstftiom his retched hand. It was a list written on well-creased stationery.
     
Sailing on the lake

Dinner at Mama Maria's Cucina

Walk at Discovery Park

Picking fresh tomatoes

Hawaiian Anniversary trip

Faces of my grandchildren
     
    And it went on—more items written in my grandfather's sloppy cursive. I glanced up from the list at my grandfather's face. His lips were set in a firm line, his eyes closed like he was stemming his tears.
    "This is my memory list," Grandpa Aldo said. "All the things I want to remember."
    "Oh." I folded the list reverently. "That sounds like a good thing to have."
    "I've carried it in my billfold for a while. If I forget these things," he said, "will you help remind me?"
    "Sure, Grandpa." My voice sounded craggy, but I was trying to keep it together.
    "I can't trust the others," he said. "They wouldn't understand. But you, Holly—there's something of your nana in you. You take the time with me. You're a patient girl."
    I shrugged.
    "You don't think the list is foolish?" Grandpa cocked his head at me.
    "I think it's beautiful," I said.
    "You keep it safe for me."
    "No, no." I held out the paper, but Grandpa wouldn't let me hand it back to him.
    "I know I forget things. I'm not the same as before. I want you to hold on to it."
    "Um ... okay." I slid the tiny paper square into my pocket.
    Lena's bus rolled up then, and she tore off of it squealing and nearly jumped on Grandpa. The spell was broken. Grandpa seemed to fade back to his normal, sedate self.
    When the apartment was dark that night, I sat at my desk and took out my grandfather's paper. I was struck again by the things on the list—the things he wanted to remember. I thought about how maybe people went through their whole lives and never rounded up all those good things. They made lists of things they dreamed of doing someday. Grocery lists. Lists of chores.
    Grandpa Aldo had it all figured out. The way to remember something was to write it down. To read it over and over so it burned into your mind.