It was an unforgettable day when I first met my grandpa Frank about a year ago. I had gone my entire life without ever meeting him. His paintings that hung around my home always gave me a sense of who he was, even before I met him.

Watercolors.

That’s what he always painted with. I figured he must have been a patient man, someone who can see a clear picture even with the edges blurred. He seemed to be a passionate man as well, with the amount of paintings and drawings he had done. He seemed like the most perfect man anyone could ask for. And finally, after waiting seventeen years, he was about to become my perfect grandpa.

As I waited outside the theatre that day, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of excitement and nervousness. Since I had only ever seen a few pictures of him, I was scared I might miss him if he walked by. I waited no longer than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

Then, an older gentleman with a pipe in his mouth walked up to me. I knew, in that very moment, I knew it was him. I ran up and embraced him, practically falling into his arms. He caught me just like any grandpa would do. I clenched onto his button-down shirt, not willing to let go because I was afraid he would slip away again. I felt like a little girl again being wrapped up in my grandpa’s arms.

The love I felt was infinite; I wanted to pause this moment and stay there forever. I finally stepped back to get a better look at him. His greyish-white hair was blown over in the breeze, his large square glasses took up half of his face resting on top his nose, and the warmest smile you could ever imagine. His eyes were full of joy like someone looking at a long lost friend for the first time in years. Looking into them I became speechless, but we didn't need to say a word in that moment. His eyes said enough for the both of us. He held out his arm for me to grab and we walked side by side into the theatre.

We were there to watch a dance recital that day, a dance recital where I was the final performance.

As we took our seats the words and questions came flowing from my mouth. “What happened, where have you been, what was everything like before I was born, tell me all about you!” I said one right after the other, barely leaving him time to reply.

“I’ve missed you so much, grandpa.” A single tear rolled down my cheek.

“I’ve always been there,” he said calmly.

The curtains started to part and the house lights began to dim. The dancers took their first positions to perform. The music started and they began leaping and spinning across the floor so effortlessly, but all I could look at was my grandpa.

I eventually got so caught up in the show and talking with my grandpa I had almost forgotten it was time for me to get ready for my solo performance. I scrambled to get up to leave but before I walked away, my grandpa grabbed my hand and said, “It will be your best one yet.”

I stepped out onto the stage, the lights staring back at me as I walked on. I took one last look at the audience before the music started. All these unfamiliar faces staring back at me except for one. The old man sitting dead center with a reassuring smile on his face. He gave me a slight nod of his head as if he could sense my anxiety and wanted to tell me everything will be all right. I smiled back at him the music started.

I had been dancing for years so I felt quite comfortable on stage, but this performance was a whole new experience. Every time I would turn to the front as I was dancing, he would be looking back at me with the biggest smile. Through the years I was taught to solely concentrate on what I was doing while I danced, but I found my mind straying down a different path in this performance. I couldn't stop thinking about him, the fact that he was finally here in person. The fact that this man who had been my grandma and mom’s whole world had finally become my whole world too.

The music ended, I stood in my final position trying to control my breathing. The audience was clapping, but all I noticed was my grandpa clapping harder and smiling bigger than anyone else.

As we walked back to my grandparents’ house when the show was over, we didn't say much, but enjoy the beautiful day. It was a perfectly sunny day, with a slight breeze and all the birds were singing. I couldn't have asked for a better day.

Along the way he would talk about his paintings, how he liked to paint the simple things like houses and boats, making the otherwise ordinary things into a piece of art. He told me art ran in the family and that I definitely had that gene.

“But you take art to a whole new level, Kaitlyn,” he told me.

I just looked at him confused.

He went on to explain, “I can paint and draw with my hands, your dad can create beauty through a camera lens, your mother can sing like a bird, and your brother can graphically compose videos and anything else he wants on a computer. But you, you use your whole self and only yourself to create a work of art. You don't use paints, a camera, a computer or even a voice, you take your passion and emotion and let it move you, and that is truly amazing.”

I couldn't help but start to cry. This man, this man I had just met was talking to me like he had known me my whole life, and in a way, I suppose he had always known who I was.

We finally made it back to the house but when I entered there was something strangely different about my grandparents’ home. The layout was the same and so was the furniture but everything was whiter and brighter than usual.

My grandparents lived in a single story house, but when I entered the door there was a flight of stair leading up to a second level. I went over to the stairs to look what was at the top but I couldn't clearly see. My grandpa came up behind me and sat me down on the steps and he knelt beside me.

He didn't say anything for a minute but just stared at the ground. He took in a breath and his gaze moved up to me.

“I’m so glad I finally got to meet you today, Kaitlyn,” he told me, looking back down at the ground again and smiling. “You are a beautiful dancer, please don’t give it up.”

“I won’t!” I promised. “You will come watch me again, right?” I asked.

“I will always be watching,” he told me, rubbing my arm. Then his voice became quieter and even started to shake a little as he continued saying, “Know that life will have its ups and downs but also know that you are strong, passionate, kind, and caring. You have always been that way and it will help you do great things as you grow up and you will go far.”

He took a slight pause. “I have to go now.”

“What?!” I frantically questioned. He just held onto my hands as I cried and begged him not to go. There have only been a handful of times I have ever cried that hard in my life. He just knelt there and let me cry and scream, but no amount of begging would keep him with me.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he stood up. “I love you more than you know and remember I will always be watching over you.” He kissed my forehead one last time and walked up the stairs.

Then, I woke up.

I was dazed and confused as I lay in bed trying to comprehend what had just happened. My face and pillow were damp from all my tears and my body was trembling. When I found enough strength I went down to my basement to find a picture of my grandpa, I couldn’t stop staring at the man in the frame.

The picture of my grandfather, who had passed away years before I was born, was the same man in my dream.