The early morning sunlight peered over the pasture; the fresh dew glimmering a top the grass. Standing on the balcony, I could no longer see my grandson as he wandered off into the distance. Now, all I could do was listen to the sound of his faint voice in which I believe him to be talking to something or someone. My knees grew weak from swaying in the wind and I decided to step back to take a seat. The old creaky rocking chair was perched in the far corner of the deck in a position that allowed its guest to oversee the pond. As I took my seat, I saw the young boy dart from beneath the trees back into view, he was chasing something. He ran and ran down past the barn, toward the entrapment of water out by the mailbox. Suddenly Billy, my grandson, took a dive toward the turf.

Jumping to my feet I took a few steps to the edge of the balcony awaiting the shrieks of injury to begin, but they never started. For the first time I thought I would see my young trooper be down for the count. Instead, he struggled back to his feet and gave me a smile to let me know he was okay. So I returned to my seat. Billy stood frozen staring off into the distance in a daze. I could not tell why, but I knew he had no desire to make a move. Out of the bushes waddled a snow white duck quacking in the direction of Billy. The duck was headed straight for him. To my surprise Billy squatted silently and waited patiently for the duck to approach him. White as snow and soft as silk, the duck stuck its bill out toward my grandson. In hesitation he gently stroked the tip of the bill before slowly working his fingers down to the soft feathers. It was a genuinely pleasant sight to see his excitement.

Quickly I slid open the glass door behind me and snatched my Kodak camera off the island counter. My eyes gazed aimlessly across the room until they stalled on the computer, it was on the table. Hidden underneath the computer was a white envelope. I could see the writing on the front and I immediately knew it was from the doctor’s office. The numb feeling took over my body and the day started to come back to me. The day, so heartbreaking and degrading; to know that my body was killing itself and my time here on earth would be short lived. I hate this. I hate this for my family, I hate this for myself. Tears forming, I started to cough. Feverishly grabbing for my medication and a glass of water I was able to catch myself. Gasping for air and quivering at the knees I took a look out the window to find Billy. I straightened myself back up and proceeded to walk back outside the glass door.

Too my amazement when I returned outside, Billy was still crouched beside the duck petting it as if it was a dog. Hurriedly I pulled the camera up and zoomed in on the current situation. Focusing the camera, I could see Billy’s smile from ear to ear as he played with his newly met friend. I must have snapped five different pictures to make sure I captured the moment and could share this memory with him in the years to come. With one final quack the duck returned into the bushes and a once again splashed into the water down at the pond. Billy still smiling sprinted toward the deck balcony laughing with every stomp of his small feet. Climbing the stairs he painted out of breathe. He chanted

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Did you see me playing with the duck?”

He was so excited when he reached the top of the steps he grasped me tightly with all the might he had and thanked me for letting him play outside on that crisp spring morning. I distinctly remember the last words that came out of his mouth, as he had not said it in a long time. He glanced up at me to make sure I was looking down upon him and once again that giant smile arose on his face again and he said…
“Grandpa, I love you so much!”

I couldn’t help, but almost shed a tear because I loved this young boy so very much and it meant everything to me to see him happy. Running to the glass door Billy struggled to open it before the door then swung wide open. I could hear him yelling to his mother telling her what a joyful time he had, but as for me I was turning back to find the small bird that proved to me, the small things are what make it all worthwhile. Why I got up that early on a spring morning I may never know. What I do know, is by waking up that morning it changed a relationship for the years still to come.