Desperately, she scanned the block in both directions. Small mounds of snow and ice coated the sidewalks. Walking safely would be difficult for people who were steady on their feet, much less someone in Grandpa’s condition.
Where could he be? Why would he leave the house all by himself?
Wringing her hands, she hardly felt the frigid air as she watched traffic rush by. She recalled overhearing him tell one of their grandchildren recently that he felt he was a “burden.” Until this last year, he had been strong and healthy; now he couldn’t even perform the simplest of tasks.
As she stood alone on the street corner, guilt flooded her.
Just then, Grandpa walked around the bend of the corner. Head bowed, eyes focused on the sidewalk, he took small, cautious steps. His overcoat barely draped the shoulder of his bad arm; his cane and a package filled his good arm.
Desperate to reach him, Grandma raced down the block. Relieved to see that he was okay, she started to scold.
“I only left you alone for a short while. What did you need so badly that couldn’t wait? I was so worried about you! What on earth was so important?”
Confused and curious, she reached into the brown bag. Before Grandpa had a chance to explain, she pulled out a heart-shaped box.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Grandpa explained. “I thought you might like a box of chocolates.”
A gift? All this worry for . . . candy?
“I haven’t bought you a gift in a long, long time.” His stroke-impaired words warmed the winter wind.
Tears flooded Grandma’s eyes as she hugged his arm to her chest and led Grandpa back home.
She shook her head slowly.
It just goes to show, she thought, it’s never too late for romance.
Where could he be? Why would he leave the house all by himself?
Wringing her hands, she hardly felt the frigid air as she watched traffic rush by. She recalled overhearing him tell one of their grandchildren recently that he felt he was a “burden.” Until this last year, he had been strong and healthy; now he couldn’t even perform the simplest of tasks.
As she stood alone on the street corner, guilt flooded her.
Just then, Grandpa walked around the bend of the corner. Head bowed, eyes focused on the sidewalk, he took small, cautious steps. His overcoat barely draped the shoulder of his bad arm; his cane and a package filled his good arm.
Desperate to reach him, Grandma raced down the block. Relieved to see that he was okay, she started to scold.
“I only left you alone for a short while. What did you need so badly that couldn’t wait? I was so worried about you! What on earth was so important?”
Confused and curious, she reached into the brown bag. Before Grandpa had a chance to explain, she pulled out a heart-shaped box.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Grandpa explained. “I thought you might like a box of chocolates.”
A gift? All this worry for . . . candy?
“I haven’t bought you a gift in a long, long time.” His stroke-impaired words warmed the winter wind.
Tears flooded Grandma’s eyes as she hugged his arm to her chest and led Grandpa back home.
She shook her head slowly.
It just goes to show, she thought, it’s never too late for romance.