The Last Smile

Fantastic Phil Bolsta.

Fantastic memory of his Grandfather.

Blessings

Triumph of the Spirit

It was the day after Christmas, 1971. I was fourteen and my sister, Cyn, was fifteen. Our family was at the Vets Hospital visiting Grampo, my dad’s father, who had spiraled into dementia after undergoing double-cataract surgery months earlier.

Our beloved Grampo was sitting in a wheelchair in his room, staring vacantly ahead. My sister and I were sitting patiently on his bed, waiting to go home. It had been a long time since Grampo had recognized any of us or demonstrated that any trace of the Grampo we knew and loved was still “in there.”

Suddenly, Grampo turned to look at Cyn and me . . .

View original post 808 more words

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s