December 22, 2008
By Rebecka Sandson GOLD, Fontana, California
Rebecka Sandson GOLD, Fontana, California
10 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I still smell him.
The smell of sweet tobacco floats on a phantom breath
He is here with me
In my room, in the car, at school.
Everywhere I go, he is watching over me.
When I am frightened all I need to do is inhale.
The sweet scent fills my head and I know I am safe.
When the day comes that I can close my eyes and no longer smell him, I will know.
I will open my eyes and he will be there.
Waiting to welcome me.
Waiting to take me home.

The author's comments:
My grandpa died a couple of years ago, but every once-in-a-while i catch a whiff of the tobacco he used to smoke in his pipe. This scent always serves as a reminder to me that family is always there for you. Even in death, my granpa still finds ways to inspire and comfort me. I love and miss him. I am sure that he will continue to be an inspiration in my life.

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