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A childhood belief about people

When my pappy died when I was 4, we didn't have the proper burial for him. The last time I saw him, he was lying on a bed covered from the chest down. I remember the nurse picking me up to let me kiss him on the cheek and then I told him that I loved him, and I said nite nite to him, and I thought he fell asleep. A few years later, I asked my Mom when Pappy was going to wake up. Then I proceeded to tell her that I should wake him up, because my dollies missed using his cane for a balance beam.

— Misguided Rose

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