Monday, April 28, 2014


 As you open the garage door, the first thing you notice, amongst the mess, is the old man sitting at a computer desk.  He looks at you.  The warm glow of love and kindness in his eyes and tooth missing smile welcome you right away.  Walking closer, the smell of tobacco wafting in the air around you and the sight of a box of tangerines on top of the creaky computer desk comforts you.  You and the old man exchange smiles.  He nods.  As quick as lightning you grab four tangerines from the box and proceed to peel them together, while sitting on his walker.  You begin to ask questions about various things in the old man's past and he tells you stories about his life growing up.   While he talks, his deep blue eyes fades into the past, and you can close your eyes and picture the cliff over the river in which he once decided to jump into.  He told you about stories of your dad and uncle pouring out all the cereal in the middle of the night to find the reward.
        The old man sighs as he continues on to talk about God and the greatness of His son's sacrifice.  Tears drip down his crinkly, bruised, and tanned skin.  Not sure why exactly, but you begin to feel sad.  Smiling the old man gestures for you to come to him.   Squeezing your shoulders, he asks why you are crying.  You suppose it is because he is feeling so sad.  When he declares that he is indeed happy in a way and sad, you become very confused.  You tell him you don't understand.  Me either is his response.  When the door opens once more you kiss his cheek and leave the room, passing your brother, who is entering and wishes to speak with him also.
        Keep holding on.  That is the last thing my grandpa said to me, and that is what I intend to do.

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