Seeing with the Heart
“It’s beautiful out
here.”
I look
up
at Pawpaw
“What do ya mean?”
Pawpaw looks
down
at me.
“Look at da snow.
It’s beautiful.”
There is no snow.
It’s just a
warm
november
night.
I laugh.
“There ain’t no snow,
silly.”
“Oh, but there is.
It’s Christmas.”
Silence
“No. Pawpaw, it’s
November.”
I try to
smile,
but I’m
worried-
scared.
“You ain’t lookin
wit’ yo’
heart, child.”
He looks at me,
Hurt
in his eyes.
“Ev’rybody is telling me that
I’m Crazy.
But I’m seein’
betta
than anyone else.
See with me.”
Pawpaw had something
wrong
with his brain.
Mama told her to be
careful.
I squint into the sky.
“I think,”
I sneak a peek at Pawpaw.
“I think I
see
the snow.”
“Beautiful ain’t it?”
A smile
s p r e a d
across his face.
A tear formed in my
eye.
“It’s the most
Beautiful
thing in the world.”
“Thank you, child.
Thank you for
seeing
with your
Heart.”
Pawpaw died
the following January.
He died seeing with his
Heart.
It’s 10 years
later
And she’s trying to
decide
what to do with her
life.
“I wanna write, Mama.
I wanna write about the
Things
In my
Heart.”
I try to explain why I’m
pursuing
creative writing
in college.
“But why, honey?
There’s so many more
stable
jobs to study for.
I know you
love
To write, to feel what
isn’t
there. But choose a job more
Real.”
Mama only wants what’s best.
“But, mama,
I wanna live
with my
Heart.
I wanna
see
with my
Heart
as I
write.
I want my
imagination
To be
Real.”
Silence
“Alright, honey.” She said.
Telling me
whatever
I wanted to hear.