One day, when my grandson was four years old, we were exploring nooks and crannies, playgrounds and trails, in our little town. Some dark clouds appeared so he climbed on my lap and we hurried home on my wheelchair just as it started to rain. He and I watched the Disney movie "Pooh's Grand Adventure." My little guy sat in a big comfy chair eating popcorn. He did not know his family was going to move away from Grandma and Papa’s little town. My heart was heavy. The song 'Forever and Ever' began to play and I got a lump in my throat. It made me sadder. I did not want him to move away but it had to be. The day he moved away was the same day my mother (his great-grandmother) died. I don’t think the world ever felt so lonesome as it did that day. I wanted to always call his name and hear his voice answer. It was not to be.
Now he has grown to be a man. But no matter where he goes in the world, he knows his Grandmother and I are still in our little house. A candle is always burning in the window for him and his younger siblings.
I am old now. Everything is simple again. Rhythms of life are becoming gentle, seasons pass and a nearby church bell still rings each day, just as it has for over a hundred years. Each night when I get into my bed and turn out the lamp, I still dream he, and my other grandchildren will come back to stay. And though it is unlikely, love for my family is forever and ever. -- MDP
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