Nine days ago we visited him in the general hospital and looked at his once 6'2", now shrunken frame in the simple metal cot/bed. Although he looked like he would break at a touch, his bright eyes (still keen and quick with wit) were sharp as he lay without movement.

My dad and his sister visited with him like old times, but all I could do was gaze at his hair (he'd dyed it brown for so long, I wasn't used to the long white waves that lay on his pillow).

I noticed the conversations around me had ended and my grandfather had opened his mouth to speak. (I couldn't tell..was he going to say something? With his eyes on the wall, was he just thinking?) I began to think about what he must be pondering, contemplating there (with a weak body and strong mind).

He did open his mouth to speak:

"Life unfolds"

I wrote it on the pages of the book I'd been reading and I heard nothing else.

As we left the hospital I opened my copy of Franny and Zooey and read the words again.

life unfolds

And it scares me, just sitting here, knowing that I will easily forget this and other things, other people, and go on through the new year, and the following years..and then suddenly remember, after it is open and unfolded, how it happened all the while I wasn't watching.

In Loving Memory of
HKT
July 1910 - December 2001