Catered

My grandfather was very sick, but he had just undergone some kind of procedure or another, and he said he felt up to calling family.
His last words to me were “Heaven will be catered.”
The next day, I was at school, and I got called into the office.
I don’t remember much after that.
Was I fifteen? Sixteen?
Today, I look in the mirror.
Too fat.
I don’t breathe the same drycleaning chemicals he did that rotted out his organs, but still…
I’ve been cutting down, eating less. And exercise.
Hold my seat, Papa Willie. It’ll be a while.