By Danny Lifson ’18, Staff Writer

When I was five years old and my grandpa was in his prime, he would sit me on his lap and say to me, “Listen boy, you are going to make a name for yourself one day.” Then he would repeat the same piece of advice to me… every single time that he saw me. He made me swear to keep our conversations confidential because he genuinely believed that he held the secret to success and didn’t want anyone else to find out.

I originally brushed  off his plea  as just a fun joke between me and my grandpa, but as I got older, I began to take what he was saying into consideration. I remember the first time I gave his words some thought–I must have been nine years old. All at once, it hit me; he really cared about my future. I decided that I would not let his guidance and knowledge go to waste: I made a pledge to follow his advice always. However, no matter how ready I was to use his advice, I could never seem to find the right instance to apply it. I waited, and I waited, and I waited.

Years passed and his words never left my mind. Slowly, his mind began to deteriorate, and his body soon followed. At his funeral, I remember clutching onto my dad’s arm thinking to myself, I will not let you down, Grandpa. I will do whatever it takes to make a name for myself, for our family, for you. I got to junior high and although I was still driven towards success, I had become less obsessed with my grandpa’s words. Eighth grade came and the only time I ever thought of him was when visiting family. Soon, high school came and I was preoccupied with my struggling social life, academics, and sports. My grandpa was no longer my priority.

Then, one cloudy Monday morning, it became clear that a storm was coming, although it had not started yet. I stepped out of my car and grabbed my umbrella just in case. As I went to open the side door to the building, I heard Ms. Galvin say, “I think I felt a raindrop.” Suddenly, I knew exactly what to do. My life made sense. All of those years of preparation from my grandpa, God bless his soul, had finally paid off. I dropped my backpack to the floor, and broke down. I looked her in the eyes and told her what needed to be said: “RAIN DROP DROP TOP.” And then I went inside. Listen, kids. You may take the advice of the elderly as not being meaningful because they are old and their best days are behind them, but every once and awhile, they can do something right. My grandpa is Quavo from Migos. Thanks for reading.