I Don’t Remember….

I don’t remember my grandfather ever talking to me. Ever.

At 60, he died of a heart attack. He was in the hospital for a while (week?) before he died. I was 13.

I never went to see him. I sort of felt guilty about that.

All these years later, it dawned on me that there’s a chance I didn’t go because I may have thought:

  • He’ll be coming home as soon as he’s well enough
  • What would we talk about?

Or maybe I just didn’t understand love enough to know how this may have been very important to him.

Or maybe, just maybe, I was following his lead.

By jeff noel

Retired Disney Institute Keynote Speaker and Prolific Blogger. Five daily, differently-themed personal blogs (about life's 5 big choices) on five interconnected sites.