It was a hot afternoon in the summer of 2010. I had been complaining because it was so muggy outside. I wanted to find a place in my house that was somewhat cooler than the rest of it. As I entered through the white double doors and into my parents’ bright and open room, I looked over at my mom who had her cell phone held up to her ear. Even though she was on the phone, she wasn’t doing much or really any talking. There were tears rolling down under her red eyes and onto her pale cheeks. Because my mom is naturally an emotional person, I didn’t really think it was anything out of the ordinary. However, I still wanted to know what happened. She said goodbye to whoever she was talking to and continued to cry. That’s when I realized that she wasn’t sad over a simple, little, everyday thing. Then suddenly, she stopped. I looked up at her heartsick face and saw her red, irritated eyes looking directly into mine. It was so quiet that I could easily hear the both of us breathe. I desperately wanted to know what had happed but, for some reason, I was afraid to ask. Then my mom opened her mouth and with a shaky voice she said, “Grandpa has cancer.” I immediately burst into tears. As I sat there mourning, many negative thoughts were rushing through my mind.
“He is the only grandpa that I really have left. He hasn’t seen me graduate high school, college, or get married. I haven’t even turned sixteen yet. There are still so many moments that I want to share with my grandpa but now, I may not even get the chance.” I was worrying so much about myself that I wasn’t realizing the pain that I knew my mom and even more my grandma was feeling. “He may be the only grandpa that is present, but I know that there are a lot of people that love me enough to fill in as a grandfather figure. My grandma can’t easily find a new husband and therefore, my mom can’t easily find a new father. I wouldn’t be able to live without my dad so how will my mom be able to live without hers?”

Then, my mom told me that the cancer was found early, he would have surgery, and he should be okay. I was confused as to why she hadn’t told me that in the first place. I was so scared that I was about to lose my only grandpa and my mom wouldn’t even tell me that he would be fine. But honestly, that didn’t really matter. What mattered was the fact that my grandpa had cancer and I hadn’t made an effort to write or call when my grandparents were far away. I felt like I hadn’t made an effort to be the best granddaughter possible when he was being the best grandfather possible. The whole experience opened my eyes to what’s important. The blazing sun outside wasn’t so bad anymore. What was important was the fact that it was there. Just like how my grandpa is still here.

In the summer, most of us hate how the sun makes us sweaty and sticky. Eventually, it goes away and the weather becomes dark and cold. By that time, we want the hot sun back and summer always comes around again. I don’t get to see my grandpa very often so when he leaves, I hate it. But, I know that he will always come around again. The next time he does, I’m using the time we have together wisely because, one day, the sun will come back around but, my grandpa might not be able to. When that time comes, and the boiling sun is shining above, I will know that he is right there looking down on me. He will be the sun that is always coming back around.