He was sitting on his recliner with his feet up and the same channel on the TV. I looked at him with a smile, I have always been so greatful for my grandfather. But even after all these years something has always felt like its been missing.
"Papa?" I asked him with the most guilt wrenching feeling in my stomach.
"What is it Lizzy?" He looked at me with a smile.
"Why don't you ever talk about my parents?" I asked him with a sad tone. He never spoke of them, I don't even know their names. I looked into his emrald green eyes and he frowned. God I hate upsetting him but I should know who they are.
He cleared his throat and put down his news paper. "Lizzy I told you, your parents made a choice and I made mine." He looked at me and all I could think of was how bad I must be making him feel. I make it sound like he's not enough for me.
"Papa, I love you. And I appreciate everything you have sacrificed just to take care of me. But don't I have the right to know who my parents are?" I sat on the arm rest of his recliner and hugged him.
All I knew about them was they set me on papa's front porch one night and never came back. I should hate them for that but I don't know them. I can't help but wonder where they are or who they are. Ever since I was little I've felt like I was missing something like a hole in my heart, a spot just for my parents.
"I love you too darlin' but you need to stop asking about them. They don't deserve to know you and you shouldn't have to know them." He smiled and kissed my forehead.
I wish my grandma was still alive, she'd tell me about them. She always told me once I turn 15 she'd tell me everything I wanted to know. Unfortunately she died from lung cancer when I was just fourteen years old. Papa took it really hard, they met when they were 17 and we're married for 62 years. They got married when they both were 18. She died at the age of 80 years old. Papa is 82 now and truth is we've struggled on our own. Nana was always good at these kinds of talks.
"Lizzy, why do you want to know your parents so badly?" Papa had never asked me this question before. I didn't want to tell him the real reason why, it'd hurt him too much.
"Well papa I just think it's time I know where I came from, or who I came from." I looked down at my charm bracelet it has my initials on it M.E.J also known as Mary Elizabeth Johnson. -My papa never liked the name Mary so he he started calling me Elizabeth but I hate that name so I make everyone call me Lizzy. I never knew where I got this charm bracelet from, when i was ten years old it was in a little box one year under the Christmas tree but it didn't say who it was from. I always assumed papa got it for me. I looked back up at him and it clicked. "Papa, where did I get this bracelet from?"
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I was hoping you'd never ask me this question. I always promised your nana that if you ever asked I'd tell you the truth."
I sat on the coffee table in front of him and I took the bracelet off and held it in my hands. "So papa where's it from?"
"When I found you on the front porch the day you were born you were in a basket wrapped in a pink blanket and right next to you was a bag. That bag had a letter in it from your mother. And it read
Dad this is your granddaughter Mary Elizabeth Johnson. I hope you'll take good care of her. When you think she's ready please give her this bracelet but don't tell her it's from her mother.
"I tried contacting your mother for weeks after receiving that letter. She never reached out. Nana always wanted me to tell you about them but I figured it was best if I didn't. I couldn't tell you much about your father and I don't even know where they are. But I knew it was the right thing to do when I gave you that bracelet." He sighed again and this time a tear came to his eye. "Lizzy for 16 years I have wondered and wondered where your parents are. I don't even know if they're okay. All I know is I promised myself that I would do anything I could for you as long as you were in my care."
I started crying. Who knew all it took was one question about a little charm bracelet. Then another question hit me. "Papa why do you hate the name Mary?"
"It sounds alot like your mother's name, Maria." He grinned. And suddenly I felt a missing piece fall into place.
The next day papa called me down for our weekly Sunday brunch. I was tempted to ask him more about my mother but I was afraid he'd shoot me down.
"Alright Lizzy there's clearly something on your mind. What is it?" He smiled and poured himself another cup of coffee. I sat in the counter in front of him and then I paused.
"Ah those bright green eyes and that wide smile tells me you're curious about something." He chuckled a little.
"What makes you say that papa?" I laughed as I picked up my cup orange juice from the counter and took a sip.
"Because your mother had the same look when she was about your age." He paused as a tear shed from his right eye. I could tell he missed her. I was so happy that he started talking about her though, that I didn't want him to stop.
"What did she look like papa?" I hopped off the counter and stood next to him as he ate his pancakes. He cleared his throat and looked up at me with the widest smile.
"She looked alot like you. She had the same hazel eyes and beautiful wide smile. She was short too just like you. Her skin glowed in the sunlight and sparkled in the moonlight. She was a true beauty. Everyone loved your mother she was such a sweet girl." He looked back down at the plate and took another bite. His attitude changed and I could feel it. I saw a sudden look of sadness come across his face. I hugged him and in that moment I felt happier than I've ever been.
