The Legacy {Unedited}

Chapter 9 - Oh If You Could See Me Now

(Sophie)

I never really knew much about my family history. My father’s parents are dead and I never really met most of my mother’s family either. I always heard stories about them and how they are the crazy side of the family but they just never visit. The only two people I know from my mother’s side of the family where my grandparents, John and Laura Simons, whom I haven’t seen in years. 

About ten years ago John, Papo as I called him, died. He died of a heart attack. I don’t remember much about him other than one memory, fresh in my mind. The last time I ever saw him before he passed. 

***

It was a day like any other in sunny Pittsburg. My grandparents lived in the outskirts of town near Carnegie Mellon University. As a kid I always dreamed of going to that school and therefore my grandparents saved me gift every time we visited them. Now I owned sweatshirts, notebooks, and pens all with the plaid red, blue, and green emblem of the school. This time, though, we were just passing by in a visit and my grandparents had not prepared anything special for us. I don’t remember much about any of our conversations but I do remember two things that will always be kept in my heart. 

First thing I remember is how Papo came up to me and ask me if I knew how to make his delicious homemade Empanadas. Even though my family has no Hispanic or Latin ascendance my grandfather had an obsession with international cousin therefore leading him to the making of his famous Empanadas. All I knew about them was that every bakery within a ten mile radius would kill to have them in stock, and that even though they were only four inches long and 2 inches wide they sold at about fifteen dollars a piece. And today, December 21st, 2002 I was going to honor the family tradition and learn how to make them. 

As he added flour, butter, milk, eggs and oil to the mixture I could not help but be fascinated at how natural this all was for him. He looked like he was completely at peace when he cooked. He then filled them with a funny smelling stuffing he said was called Ropa Vieja which can be literally translated as old clothing in English, or so said Papo.  It looked like normal chicken to me. Then they were off to the oven with a thin layer of butter that Papo painted on them just before putting them in. 

My second memory of him happened next. I had never seen anything as beautiful as of what I saw that day. We walked together towards the front porch of the house setting a timer that would alert us in about fifteen minutes so we can take them out. 

The front porch of my grandparent’s house was wooden, traditional. It held two rocking chairs and one big waterproof sofa on the right end of the house. Papa sat in one of the rocking chair and held me up and sat me on his lap. Then I saw the clock, it was six in the afternoon, we had been cooking for about two hours now and this was our break.  

“Look” Papo said calling my attention. As I tuned my head towards the place he was pointing I saw it. I had never seen anything as beautiful as I did that day. 21st of December of 2002, the sun set was just breathtaking. I had no other way to describe it. It was like a supernova had exploded in the sky and splashed the canvas with yellow, pink, red and orange. The few clouds that were in place now just complimented the painting. It was just all too much so I turned and stared into my Papo’s eyes. They were deep with concern that I didn’t understand back then. And then I just hugged him, held him in my little arms as strong as could. I knew then that I would hold on to that day forever no matter what. Then the moment was gone. I had to leave and I never went back. 

He died the next day. I will never forget how I had just woken up by the crying outside my room. I was so confused. I then heard my dad answer to someone on the other side of the phone that his father-in-law had just passed. I closed my door, could not wrap my head around this. He was gone.