How I Became The Farmer Of Pelican Town

Last day of Farm Past

My father had his hands on the steering wheel while I looked out of the slightly opened window feeling the cold winds of the morning spring day.

I rest my head on my right hand watching the passing cars and the many green and pink trees we drove past, heading out of the city and into the countryside of Stardew Valley.

We were heading to grandpa's house.

My grandfather lives on his farm in Pelican town, it is a strange place indeed.
Other than sharing its name with a fish-eating bird with a large beak, almost a quarter of the town is his farmland.

At least that gave me more space to play in, but I can't do that anymore since I am growing up, I am a teenager already so I have to act like one, or more than what is expected of me.

The car came to a halt, parking on the side of the road.

Another strange thing about Pelican town is there ain't no roads inside Pelican town and most of the residents have no vehicles or at least ones that are visible.

So, daddy has to park on the side of the only road where you can even access Pelican town, which is also next to the community bus is parked, that many of the residents use instead of having their very own vehicles.

Pops unbuckled his seatbelt and started heading out of his car so I did the same, and we began walking to my grandpa's farm, which wasn't far, we just go to the left instead of the right, and there it is.

Rosaline Loon Farm.

Once we step foot inside, my eyes sadden a little.

The fields that were formerly covered in high-quality crops and full of colorful scenery were now filled with a dull sight, tall weeds, and bland, maybe dead common trees.

Though my eyes were glued to the dull fields of my granddad's farm, daddy didn't even glance at the field as his main focus was to visit his very own father, which I didn't blame.

"Are you coming inside or not? Grandpa would be sad if he didn't get to see you."
I turned around and saw dad already on the wooden porch of grandpa's house.

I scurried up the porch steps in my boots as my pops knocked on the door.

"Come on in!" The familiar and slightly off-note chimes of grandpa's voice can be heard from inside the building inviting us inside.
Dad opens the door and holds it, letting me walk inside.

Once I step inside I am met with a grim image, Grandpa was ill in bed still in his pajamas,

and it doesn't look like he will get better anytime soon.

Dad told me before we arrived that he was under the weather but now I reunite with him after not visiting for a couple of months, maybe a full-on year; daddy's words felt like an understatement.

His skin looked more off-colored than it usually is, luckily his colorful personality wasn't washed out as he was ecstatic that his son and grandkid visited him during these times.

Grandpa tried his best to sit up but gave up as his cold, flu, whatever sickness he had gotten had him a migraine and stole his energy.

"Be careful dad, don't overexert yourself," Dad warned Grandpa.

"Even just sitting up is tiring, I used to work on the farm non-stop, day to night without any trouble," Grandpa grumbles and boasts.

"And make mama worried you would tire yourself to death." Dad leaned against the wooden walls of the small cabin.

They mostly kept talking, I started to mute out the words exchanged by daddy and grandpa as the short visit started to bore and uninterested me as I wasn't part of the conversation.

I look around the room or the whole house.
His "home" was a single room with a bed and a fireplace, excluding the decorations such as picture frames and a symbol on the wall.

I wouldn't call his house a house, more like a bedroom and nothing else.
I doubt he lives here for most of the time the more I think about it, it was like those cabins for a group of students or scouts would go to for field trips.

Since there is no kitchen where does he cook? Where is the bathroom, an essential part of every home?
My questions about his home were cut short as grandpa grabbed my attention with his words.

"And for my very special grandchild,"

My attention was fully on my grandpa as he grabbed something thin from his bedside, with the limited energy my grandpa could muster.
"I want you to have this sealed envelope."
In his right hand was a white envelope that has been newly stamped with a purple wax seal.

He must have seen my curiosity for the envelope or the fact that my fingers were about to open it.
"No, no, don't open it yet... have patience. Now, listen close..."

I leaned slightly forward, I ponder what my granddad was going to say.

"There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness. When that happens, you'll be ready for this gift."

Once grandpa finished I looked at the envelope, what does he mean by "crushed by the burden of modern life"?
Probably just old geezer talk.

Though I was a very careless teen and didn't pay attention to most of my grandpa's talks as if he spoke like he was one thousand years old, I kept these words of him close to my heart and kept a promise to never open the envelope unless absolutely and positively necessary or as grandpa said, been crushed by the burden of modern life.

"Now, let Grandpa rest." Grandpa yawned and turned his head on his pillow the opposite of me and daddy.

"Sweet dreams pa." I whispered. Though it felt like I and dad just got to grandpa's farm, I let him sleep and walked out of the cabin.
I was already out of the door as my dad said his farewells.

Sometimes I wish a "I love you" was included in our goodbyes because that was the last day we saw him.

Awake and animated.