My grandfather died four months ago and very few days go by when I don't think about him. He left us a table that he made himself out of a tree that someone had cut down and was going to haul away. My mother grew up with the table and my aunt used to press so hard with her pencil that her homework is still inscribed in it.
The kids think about their great grandpa too. Last week I was in the car with Annabella and one of her friends. Her friend asked if we ever used the 6th seat in our minivan, which is usually folded down.
"We used to use it all the time," Annabella said, "when my great grandfather was alive. That's where he would always sit."
We often pass by my grandfather's house and whenever we do Milo or Huck will always say, "There's Great Grandpa's house!"
This morning when Huck said it, I asked, "Does Great Grandpa still live there?"
Huck said, "No. He's died. He's in the hospital. In a dentist's bed. He's having trouble breathing."
Well, that's almost all true.
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