The next day, I called my mom. “Do you remember me walking into the pond and grandpa rescuing me?”
“My God! Who told you about that?”
“You mean, it really happened?”
“Yes, but your father and I never told you about it because grandma swore us to silence. Even though it wasn’t her fault, she felt that she had failed in her responsibility, and never wanted you to know about it. My goodness, that was so long ago. Who told you this?”
“Mom, did I go for a walk with grandpa and return with daisies for you and grandma?”
“Okay, I get it. You and your dad are playing some kind of prank. Okay, it’s very funny. Now, quit it.”
“This is no prank, mom. Grandpa told me this in a dream last night.”
“It still sounds like a prank.”
“No, I’m serious. He told me that grandma had a reaction to blackberries. He said I was wearing brown and white Buster Brown shoes. He said I gave you and grandma daisies.”
“Oh, my God. Your father would never remember all this. It must be Daddy! Did he say anything about visiting his gravesite?”
“Yes, that was his problem. He wanted me to visit them. He also said you had not visited since—”
“—Since mom’s birthday six years ago?”
“Well, not—”
“I’ve got to get over there right now!”
“Wait for me! I’m coming with you, and I’ve got to bring those daisies. Maybe we’d better start going every year, huh, mom?”
“Yes. There’s no telling what grandpa might tell you next time.”
