Memory

She loved the old man.

It was evident to everyone around that this woman idolized her Grandfather, despite – no, because of – his quirks. And everyone knew that there was a bond there that defied explanation – the young girl and the old, daft man.

She couldn’t remember a time where she didn’t come to watch him, staring up at the night sky with his telescope. He loved to explore the Stars, and to her, that meant that she too loved it. The only thing that ever gave her pause were those times when she could see him muttering under his breath, always with words too low to hear – and always with a tear in his eye.

It had been several years hence that her Mother had finally accepted her desire to keep things “safe”. Before that time, she recalled completely the almost scornful way her parent would refer to things around her life. Never a good job, never the right man – nothing Donna Noble ever did was quite good enough. But that was before.. before..

As usual, the thought slipped away from her. It seemed to her that there was.. something.. just on the tip of her mind that would explain why her Mother constantly said “I Love you” now, and why at times her Grandad would ask to be alone at the telescope. But her mind always rebelled at the last moment, and drew that elusive thought back into itself. “One day” she thought to herself, “One day I’ll remember”.

Time passed as it always does, and Donna found a position at a firm in a permanent capacity. She felt she owed it to herself to finally get some stability – no more moving around so much. And a benefit as well – a Husband. Finally a man smart enough to see what was there under the surface, the woman strong enough to stand up and let him know what was what. Almost like… like… And again, the thought wormed it’s way to somewhere else.

Then it came to pass that the moment she had been dreading for years happened. She got “That” telephone call – Her Grandad was ill, and as she suspected – he refused treatment, and instead headed up the hill, to look through his telescope.

She threw on her coat and dashed to her car, speeding her way to the hill. It was just like him to go there, but then she knew him so well – No denying him this last pleasure. one last trip through the Cosmos in his mind, with his eye pressed firmly to the glass. And Donna herself, she knew that she had to be there – because that was what he would want.

Heading up the Hill, she saw him there – small fire nearby, a thermos at hand’s reach and the telescope. As she expected, he was there, looking at the sky. She gazed for a moment before she called out to him, to let him know she had arrived.

“Oh Donna, there you are” Wilf said, “I suppose you know what they’ve said.”

“Yes, Grandad – you know you shouldn’t be here – in your condition you could…”

Wilf waved off the rest of the comment, and patted the seat beside himself for her to join him. Silently she sat, and together they watched the stars. After a while, she grew aware that he was no longer with her. Shedding tears, she put out the fire and used her cell to call the ambulance, and waited until they collected him.

The funeral was small, just a few friends, Donna – and her Mother. Together they grieved and celebrated the life of this gentle man, the man who loved the Queen, the stars and family above all else.

As she collected the last few wreaths and flower arrangements, Donna noticed a small, unassuming display with a card in a somehow familiar shade of blue. Strangely, she didn’t remember seeing it before they had gone out for the burial – but here it was now among the rest. She pulled out the card, and read it to herself:

“To the man who never wavered in his self assumed duty, the man who gave me faith in knowing that all was right in the universe. He once said he’d remember me, so I in turn make the same pledge. Every night in my travels, no matter where I may be – I will look to the Sky, and remember my good friend Wilfred Mott – and his wonderful family.”

It was signed simply – John Smith.