My papa is the man I carry around in my heart. He is my special memory. When I conjure up pictures of my papa I never fail to re-live the moments that I shared with him.

My papa was my mother's father. He had lived in England before I was born and when I came to know him, he had only returned to the island a few years before. Papa was of medium height and stocky without being fat. He had a strong black face with deep grooves that ran from under his eyes, along the side of his nose and curved at the corner of his mouth to peter out into his chin. When he smiled, they spread and merged with his jaw to draw attention to the twinkle in his eyes. Even now I can still see the deep grooves and those eyes that seemed to twinkle at some secret joke.

Papa rarely laughed aloud and when he did, it was dismissive laughter that was intended to take the speaker down a peg or two. If a person had nothing to say that could contribute something worthwhile to a discussion on cricket, horse racing, or his favourite radio commentary, he had better remain silent or one dismissive wave of Papa's hand would tell him that he was talking 'utter rubbish'.

Papa would often sit on the verandah stairs, propped up against them, with his pink transistor radio nestling in the crook of his arm so that he had quick access to the dial switch. On Saturday, he would frequently switch between horse racing and cricket if a Test match were being played. When the West Indies was playing a Test match, he shooed us to play as he handed us his ready-made windmills made from neatly cut cane leaves and pinned at the top of miniature bamboo poles with thorns.

During the advertisement breaks he would whistle with the skill of a practising bird in high summer. That was Papa, all laid-back and easy like Sunday morning.

quarrells

My cousins and I adored Papa. Papa never took sides in our quarrels and he loved us all, just as he loved his favourite horse, Long Shot, and his German shepherd, Rosa. When Long Shot and Rosa died within days of each other - in 1978 - the light went out of Papa's eyes for months. It came back when my cousin Evor was born. When Papa saw him (I was told by my mother who was in the birthing room when Papa walked in) the grooves in his face spread to merge into his jaw and it was a marvellous sight. My mother said that smile that broke and spread across his face was like the sun breaking through layers of dark clouds.