I’m listening to Papa playing melodious tunes on his ukulele. He expertly strums each chord as he sings his favorite song and I smile. His soothing voice calms me. I open my eyes and I’m back, with my Papa’s ukulele on my lap. He is why I took 8 years of lessons and learned to play beautiful music. Now when I play I remember him, not his appearance but his presence. I feel him by me listening proudly as I play his favorite song and I smile because I will always have my papa; all I need is his ukulele.
Thank you! I changed it