My Grandpa is eighty eight years old. His eyes are bright blue and he walks three miles everyday with his dog, Barney Google the Third. I love him. (Him, being my Grandpa. Barney is a titch too slobbery.) I visited with my smiling grandpa two days ago and my kids tumbled around his house just like I did when I was their age. I am so glad they know him. The good man sent me home with a gift, two lamps that sat next to my grandparents bed since my mom was a teenager. All orange glass and twisted metal. Lovely. My Grandma has been gone for years, but when I see those lamps I am three again. Spending the night at their house, it is too dark and I am scared. So she carries me into their bed and turns the lamp on. A little light for a little girl.
And I can see everything just a bit more clearly.