The Neon Pad

Growing up as a young boy, my mother and father worked second shift jobs. Their choice was to either pay for a sitter, which would have been expensive, or drop me of at my grandma’s house. Of course, the choice was easy, grandma’s house it was. I sure didn’t mind. I loved spending time with my grandma! She was one of my best friends.

Everyday getting picked up, I would get excited that I was going to her house. We would always have such a fun time.

I would walk into the front door of her blue house that lead directly into the kitchen. Almost everyday there would be my grandma, cooking away in the kitchen. She was a slender woman. About 5-foot-tall and 105 pounds on a good day. Her hair was a light tan color, almost white. She always had on one of her famous “grandma sweaters,” whether it was a summer or winter day, and a smoke in her right hand.

First thing she would ask was what I wanted for lunch. Of course she knew the answer to the question, fried potatoes. Looking back, I am not sure if there was a day she watched me that I didn’t ask for friend potatoes. For some reason she just made the most incredible ones. They were never soggy and had just the perfect amount of cooked to crispy ratio. That was my grandma though always pleasing her young grandson. That’s what grandmas do!

Some days after lunch, she and I would sit down and play a couple games of Rummy or watch MacGyver. However, the thing I enjoyed the most would be our little walks downtown. Her house was very close to downtown Erie. There was one store in particular that we would go to. This store used to be called D & K. It was like a family dollar is to use now. All sorts of odds and ends were available. She would want to go there to stock up on whatever may be out in the house. The best part for me was that she would always let me pick out a little something for myself.

One time, in particular, stands out more than any other. It was a normal trip down to the store. On the walk there was not much to see in perspective to nature. Houses on both sides of the street with several trees and rows of electrical polls. As always, we looked around the store, even though we have been in there more times than I can count, but that was our:thing”. Once in awhile, she would find something unique and bring it home.

During this time, I was the one who found something unique. It was the simplest thing but to me, at a young age, it was amazing. It was a jumbo scratch pad. The pad was so amazing to me because the papers inside were neon colors. White, cherry, lime, lemon, pink and orange paper filled this pad. I asked her if I may get it and of course, as excited as I was, she could not say no.

Flash forward to the present. I am now thirty years old. I still have this pad. I have had it all these years, now beaten up and pages fallen out of it. For some reason even though I wanted it so bad to draw in it, I kept it. My younger self left me a message. It reads, my grandma got me this paper when we went up town. I even wrote our ages. I was nine years old and she was sixty-two.

I don’t know why I decided to keep this little pad but there is just something about it. IT has been six years since my best friend passed away, but anytime I miss her, I can take a look at my pad and remember our walks to D & K as if I was there again.