Grandpa

I just had long conversations with both my mom and my sister. Apparently, my 91-year-old grandfather had a minor stroke this morning and also has pneumonia and an eye infection. He's in the hospital, and is extremely agitated unless they pump him full of meds. He's been exhibiting signs of Alzheimer's for years now, and doesn't know any of our names any more, but is amazingly healthy beyond that.

I have always seen him as a mythical, almost frightening person. He is a man of very few words but extremely hard work. He has farmed all of his life, and tolerates nonsense from no one. When I was a girl, I used to spend time out at the farm with my grandparents, and the best times were when I would go out to the garden or out into the fields with him. He never said much at all, but always answered my many questions honestly and well.

He was never affectionate. He would accept kisses on the cheek, but that is about it. It's so poignant that he is so much warmer now that he doesn't really know who we are. However, whenever we drove anywhere together, he would always be able to reach out and grab the most sensitive part of my kneecap (in jest, of course). He would smile at my yelp and we would laugh together.

Tonight, Grandma is sleeping in the hospital room at his side, as she promised him that she would. I hope that he can go home soon. I can't imagine it any other way.