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*
As I was gathering my stuff, I heard a small muffled cough coming from behind. I turned my head slightly to see if grandpa was okay, but I only him crumbling a handkerchief.
"You okay, Grandpa?" I asked while I finished putting on my shoes, worry and suspicion growing slowly.
"Yes, I am. Can you help me with putting on my shoes, my boy?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed. I helped him with his slippers and off we went. We walked together, hand in hand, for my Grandfather was unstable. We waited in the lobby for my mother to come and pick me up. We talked for a few minutes, about anything really. We spoke of his old stories and which I liked the best, which was the one about the man with the red eyes and black trench coat. And we spoke of the gossip that was spreading within the elder's home. He made jokes about some staff that takes care of him. After a while of waiting, my mother finally walked in.
"Hello, Gabriel. How are you today?" My mom asked.
"Aswell as an old man can do in this place. How about yourself?" He said with a small smile. It was strange. His smile wasn't as big or cheerful as normal. It looked weak and sad. Perhaps he's tired, it's not surprising if that were the case. He seemed more tired these past few days.
"I'm hanging on. Work is busier and stressful nowadays. Sometimes I feel like I'm getting older faster," She said with a small laugh.
"Well, from the way I see, it appears you are getting younger and younger. Trust me when I tell you this."
"Thank you. That's very sweet of you." My mother said with a small smile before she turned towards me. "Well, we must be on our way." She said picking up my backpack. She gave my Grandfather one last hug, wishing him health and telling me to meet her in the car. She walked away with her shoulders slumped and my backpack swinging slowly back and forth in her hand. I turned back towards my Grandfather and watched as his eyes shined with happiness as my mother left the building. It was a look of pure content and happiness, but something else sparkles in the pool of his hazel eyes; was that gratitude towards my mother? The sound of honking woke us both from our small reverie. I smiled and spoke first.
"Goodbye, Grandpa. I'll see you again, hopefully soon," I said hugging him goodbye.
"Goodbye, my boy. I will wait for you." He said hugging me back. Was it only my imagination, or was he weaker? He felt more fragile, like glass. This terrified me because he was once, no is a strong man. One no one could shoot down, no matter what. He was a rock that the winds and seas could not move. The strange and peculiar. But he was amazing. He was my rock. What I held onto. What I waited every week to end for. He was an important person for me. For him to be weak and fragile is to mean that my idol was leaving. I shook my head to take out all of those thoughts away. I wished him to be healthy and promised I would see him again and soon. Once we both released one another, from the small hug we shared, I turned my back and walked away but hesitated when I heard a soft whisper, "She did a wonderful job raising and caring for them both... There is no need to worry my love..." Before words came out of my mouth, I ran into the car and relaxed.
Beside me, my Mother sighed and pulled away from the Elders Home. I couldn't help my curious mind and asked my Mother whether something was wrong.
"Nothing too much to worry about. Just that the fact that your Grandfather is slowly retreating away." She said driving out to the highway. I got worried. What did she mean by "Retreating away"? I thought he was perfectly fine in his barren room. Confused, I asked my mother to explain what it was she had meant.
"It's nothing too serious. He is losing his sight. Have you not noticed to hazy look in his eyes? The gloss that goes over his hazel eyes, making them look a little whiter than they really are? He is old, ancient in fact. He's gone through plenty of things in his life, so now that he is coming of age, all of those times are taking a toll on him."
That's when it hit me. How was it I, who was with him the most, had not noticed these small changes? I realized it was because he wouldn't let me notice. He always had his eyes closed so I could not see them. And when they were open, he would always turn and face the wall, staring at nothing. He muffled his own coughs and wouldn't move from his bed. He wouldn't show his weakness, plain and simple. But how was it I knew all of this, yet did not connect the dots to see the larger picture? From his hazy eyes to his bloody handkerchief, my Grandfather was sick, and I didn't know how much longer he had.
For the rest, if the trip home, it was a quiet ride. I could hear only the hum of the car and the nearby traffic. I sat there looking straight ahead, as I tried to think of ways I could have helped my Grandfather. But alas, this was not the tale of the man who traveled many depths to find a bottle of immortal elixir for a loved one to live. Alas, this life was not one of my Grandfather's fables.
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*wipes away tears* I'm not crying, you are!
How do you feel about Grandpa?
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The Phoenix Girl (Editing)
Aktuelle Literatur"Have I ever told you the story of The Phoenix Girl?" My Grandfather asked. "No, you have not," I said. My Grandfather was like any other old man, but his mind was far from ordinary. All grandfathers are alike, each one tells you stories about wa...
