memories of my Grandfather

This story may be a little hard to read
So I warn you
I was writing about my mother and couldn’t help
But think about one of my favorite people in the world
My grandfather
Papa
Major McCarroll
If you ask me to describe him
A handsome dark skinned man, with a perpetual cigar in his mouth.
He told relative that his people came from Jamaica and thinking back
On him I can see it
And it helps me with my love of Jamaica
Anyway
He was my hero
My first and will remain with me forever
I was a pain in the ass as I Have told you
If I were born 30 years later I would have been on ridlin
No not really my mother wouldn’t have allowed it
But I should have been
I was a hyper active child, full of energy and ideas
Most of them not good one
But I was in to every one
And all of my life I noticed every thing about every one around me
I guess I get this from my mother
And as a cop it was my strongest suit
I found always tell if some was lying and I could always find the drugs
They said my bosses that I had the most incredible cops six sense.
And my grandfather and mother were close
Papa had a cleaning shop and owned the building where we first lived
At 143 Catherine st in Elizabeth
Papa was Married to Valerie Miller………….
Mama I loved her but she scared me to death
She was proper and firm
At least to my kid’s eyes
And I with my cousin carol were the strange one so we were always hiding from Mama
But papa
Man he would take his time with me
As a child with the exception of my mother, aunt dolly
He was the one that god me
Maybe the rebel in me comes from him so he understood
I love the smell of cleaning shops to this day
And spent many a day playing between people cloths that were hanging in the shop
I would sneak and use the pressers for cloths when papa
Wasn’t looking
But he knew he let me
And he would teach me how to bowl
Right there in the shop
My family bowled a lot and I later became a pretty fair bowler
But I got so frustrated that I would often wind up in tears
When the bowl went down the alley
Hell I would often wind up in tears
When it snowed or
When
The mail man came
Anyway he had patience at least for me
And I always felt so protected when papa was around
He could protect me from the world
This strange silent good man
When we would go to the family bungalow colony
At Farmingdale
I would spend time sitting on my grandfather lap while he cut
The acres of grass at the place
It was and is one of my nicest memories
Riding on that tractor
And looking at the fields of black eyed Susan’s
And picking all of the wild strawberries
That grew here
Down in south jersey
The day papa died
Was a strange one
My mother was taking me and Ronnie to two guys
To pick up a toy that we had begged for
For months
It was a submarine that you put a tablet in
And it would bubble
When we were leaving
Papa came over to the window
Of my mother station wagon
And said good bye
I remember he leaned in the window
And smiled at me
But some thing about his face didn’t sit right with me
And I told my mother some thing is wrong with papa
I knew it
I was so connected to this man
By the time we got back from the store
My father was standing in front of our house\
My father never came home from work
Unless some thing happened
I knew papa was dead as soon as I saw my father
I just knew
Later my grandmother
Took me into a room at her house
Looked at me
And asked me
What did I see?
How did I know?
I told her I just knew some thing was wrong with him
I felt it
She just looked at me sadly
Anyway papa
Death broke my heart
I was torn up about it for months
Couldn’t sleep
Devastated
And them one sleepless night
And this is a true story
I looked out of my bedroom window late one night
And there was papa
Staring up at my window
He just looked at me and smiled
And walked away
When he got to the back steps of my house
He turned and waved at me
He knew I wouldn’t be ok unless he did this
And then he vanished
After that night I was ok
I knew papa didn’t forget me
And later in life
I knew that his spirit had some back to give me peace
Yes papa
Stays with me to this day
And that’s what love is all about