Walking with Papa Growing up as the first grandchild often comes with its perks, but with my grandparents, it felt like an endless supply of love, care, and precious routines. From the moment I can remember, I was Papa’s little shadow, following him everywhere, much to the delight and amusement of everyone around us. Some even mistook me for his youngest child because of how inseparable we were. I first started living with my grandparents when I was just three years old. Although I moved back to live with my parents for a short while, I returned to them at six. Those early years with Papa in East Legon were full of routines and rituals, the core of our bond. Every Sunday was our special day. We would dress up and head to Legon Christ Anglican Church together. It was a routine I held dear. The car ride to church was always accompanied by the same radio station, playing tunes that defined my childhood. Papa would sometimes sing along, his voice filled with warmth that made me feel safe and loved. At church, I went off to Sunday School, but my four-year-old self never worried about not finding Papa—he would be in the exact spot he always sat. A true creature of habit. Papa loved church and the routine of the Anglican Church. I could always feel his joy and passion there. My grandma, being a Methodist, rarely joined us on these Sunday excursions. It was always just the two of us. It was our time, a tradition that continued for many years and formed a cornerstone of my childhood. After the service, we’d drive back home, our hearts full from the time spent together. The familiar tune of “Que Sera Sera” filled the car, and I couldn’t help but sing along. Papa joined in, his voice deep and steady, making me laugh. Moments like these are the ones I treasure most—simple, yet filled with love. Papa was a man of structure and routine. He valued consistency and predictability in his daily life. He had specific times for meals, left for church at the same hour every Sunday, and never missed his morning walks. Those walks were another bonding moment for us. Although I was just a little girl and couldn’t keep up with his brisk pace, he would slow down just for me. We would chat about the simplest things—what I was learning at school, the flowers we passed, or the dogs barking in the distance. As I grew older, our conversations became deeper, touching on my future, my career as a midwife, and even our views on the world. Papa had a softer side, especially when it came to me. I’ve heard stories from my dad and uncles about how strict he was with them. But with me, it was different. I had him wrapped around my little finger. If I ever got into trouble and someone dared to scold me, Papa would come to my rescue. He would whisk me away to his bedroom, where a small fridge filled with sweets and chocolates awaited me. Without fail, I would leave with a piece of chocolate, my worries forgotten. Our bond was evident to everyone. I even slept in their bedroom on my own little bed for years, something that further deepened our connection. It was no surprise that people often assumed I was his last-born. And in many ways, I felt like I was. One of my fondest memories is of Papa leaving some of his chicken for me. As a child, chicken was my favourite, and regardless of where I was, Papa would call me over to share it with him. It was his way of showing his love, and it made me feel incredibly special. Through our time together, Papa taught me many valuable lessons. The most important one was to always put God first. He also showed me the importance of family and how vital it is to know that you are never alone because your family will always be there for you. He even confirms it every time he comes to visit me in the UK, saying, “If you need anything, I am always here for you.” As I look back on those days, I realise how much Papa influenced the person I am today. Our Sunday drives, morning walks, and shared meals were more than just routines; they were moments of learning, love, and connection. I carry his lessons with me every day, and I am eternally grateful for the time we spent together. By Nana Ama 38 The Birthday Journal
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