When my brothers and I were little, my grandpa would make up stories and draw pictures for them. He made stories for each of us in particular, “This story is for Steve and it is called…”
When I came back from Australia on vacation to see my family, I saw my grandpa in a home. He had had a stroke and lost all ability to draw, he wrote like a kindergartener, and speaking was very hard for him and hard for me to understand.
So I gathered my one year old on my knee and sat with grandpa and told back the stories he had brought to life for us kids all those years ago. He was sooo excited, he got his favorite nurse and was very proud. He asked me, at the end of our visit, if I would write the stories up and submit them for publishing.
So that is what I need to do. That was the last time I saw him and it is warming to think how happy he was to hear those tales… and then I kinda feel guilty I haven’t done it yet but I need to.
