I was five-but still old enough to remember the pain in my mom's eyes when she said "Grandpa is missing and we have to find him." The prairie turned into a blur around us as the four-wheeler carried us over the hills as fast as it could. We searched his land first. Nothing. So we started scouring our land, too. We flew over a hill and there he was leaning on an REA pole across our fenceline on the neighbor's land. He had been spraying weeds and run out of gas before he made it back. "Dad, you scared me! Did you get lost out here?" my mom asked. "I know exactly where I am," he replied. He died about a year later and had been losing his mind for the six months prior, but in that moment-even as a child-I could tell that he was not lost.
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He Was Not Lost
Short StoryThis is a story that I wrote for an English assignment, the assignment was supposed to be a 100 word memoir, but I went over by about 50 words. This is the story before revision. It's a very personal and yet relatable event from my childhood.
