And gold in his heart.
On my way to visit my 90 year old grandfather in the hospital tonight, I realized that he has been a grandparent for half his life now. I was his first grandchild and he is the only grandfather I have memories of.
My strong and stubborn grandfather looked so weak in his hospital bed this evening. His voice isn't as loud and robust as it once was -- but that stubborn streak of his is alive and well.
One of my running partners recently talked about how she never sat down and got the story of her grandparent's lives and she regrets it now that they are gone. She brings up a good point. When he gets out of the hospital, I need to go spend a weekend with my grandparents and write down their story.
So, come on, Opa! I need you to get better soon!
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