May 12, 2009
Spring is here. Tra-la-la. I stood in my grandparents’ bathroom crying and holding my heart in my chest while listening to these two beautiful men talk about nothing. My grandfather, age 93, tells stories in his deep quiet voice to Chris, who he met less than 24 hours ago but welcomed into his home. And Chris—(hell, I just met Chris, if you compare it to the 93 years that my grandfather has lived)—asks sweet questions, listens to the answers, responds, laughs. I cried and held my heart in my chest and prayed that neither of them ever go.