Free Finding Parker by Scott Hildreth, SD Hildreth

smiled and nodded my head slightly as I stood.
    “I’ll get them,” she responded.
    “I insist,” I chuckled.
    “Fine,” she shook her head and turned toward the steps.
    I watched as she began to walk down the steps, filled with gratitude to have seen her again. As she began to gracefully walk away, I recalled Kenton’s remark, which I was now asking myself several times a day.
    If this were my last day on this earth, would I do anything different?
    “Victoria,” I shouted, quickly making my way to the staircase.
    Halfway down the steps, she turned to face me.
    “Yes?”
    “Your number. I would like to get your number,” I placed my hands on my hip and raised my eyebrows in wait.
    She stopped, sighed, and stared at me for a long moment.
    “I don’t know why I’m doing this. Fine. Six one nine four four seven one zero three five,” she smiled.
    I smiled in return and repeated the number silently until she walked through the front door.
    I walked back to the table and began to pick up the magazines she had left. As I straightened them, making note of what she was reading, I noticed a scrap piece of paper that marked one of the pages. As I removed it, I saw something had been written in pen on the other side. Curious, I turned the piece of paper over.
    One word, neatly written in block lettering.
    My first name.
    Parker.

PARKER. Growing up, for me, wasn’t necessarily difficult. Accepting life as it unraveled into my lap, on the other hand, was a different story. My grandmother proved to be instrumental in my ability to understand most things regarding living life.
    “Life is hard. No, life is tough,” I complained as I walked into the kitchen.
    I may have been eleven or twelve at the time. Frustrated from what had been, in my opinion, a difficult day at school – I had expressed my opinion regarding life and its hardships to my grandmother.
    “Parker, life is just that. Life. Living it is easy. It happens while we’re alive, without thought or effort. Even if or when we choose to do nothing, the clock continues to tick. From our feeble beginning, through all of the complications, and to what will certainly be an unscheduled and unwelcome ending, life happens . Life is easy. Live it while you’re alive.”
    “Because when you’re gone, Parker, you won’t have an opportunity.”
    I wouldn’t have necessarily described my grandmother as an intelligent woman, but I always admired her for being wise. She seemed to have a different outlook on life, and her outlook, for the most part, became mine as time passed.
    “What about mom and dad? Why did they have to leave here so soon?” I asked as I placed my books on the table.
    “I suppose it was to bring us closer together,” she smiled, opening her arms to hug me.
    Slowly and sadly, I walked to her and wrapped my arms around her waist. Her dresses always felt smooth against my skin. I pressed my face against her shoulder and took a slow deep breath.
    “And grandpappy?” I asked as my eyes began to fill with tears.
    “Again, to bring us even closer,” she responded as she pressed her hands against my back.
    “Things happen in life, Parker. Things we may or may not understand, at least not at first. These events, these happenings, they provide us with opportunities. It’s God’s way of opening doors for us. He provides us with opportunities, and we must make choices. If we’re of sound mind and practicing being a good child of God, we’ll generally make good choices,” she placed her hands on my shoulders and slowly broke our embrace.
    “Your parents leaving this earth gave your grandfather and me an opportunity to do what we believed to be right, to raise you no differently than we raised your father. We took that opportunity. And you, Parker, are the reward. You’re a fine boy. There’s none finer, if you ask me. Not now or ever,” she looked down into my eyes, her hands still on my shoulders.
    “Life is easy. All we have to do to live it