As we all sat and talked together in her living room, I aimlessly strummed on my week-old ukulele. I was suddenly seized by a desire to learn how to play one particular song.
The song was "You are my Sunshine," and it was a song my grandpa used to play on his guitar. It was the song we sang at his funeral. It is a song that reminds always reminds me of him.
I learned the chords during that visit, and as we prepared to leave, my grandmother showed me a box of guitar songbooks. "Here," she said, "These were your grandpa's. You can look through them and take some."
I gently sifted through the pages. Some were white and new, others yellow and creased with age. But they all belonged to my grandpa, and they were beautiful.
Choosing was an impossible task. Several contained ukulele chords, so I claimed those, in addition to several that did not. I couldn't resist. I clutched the pages to my chest as I thanked my grandma and walked to the car.
I felt as though I had a piece of Grandpa Charles there with me.
On one of the first pages I opened to, I found his song:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.
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