They made quite the odd pair, walking down the broad road. The girl was pale and knock-kneed, with glasses and frizzy hair. Her eyes were darting around as if she were suspicious of the ancient oak trees looming overhead from either side. The other figure was an elderly man with a slightly hunched back and a wild, silvery beard.
"Grandfather, mother says you shouldn't be walking outside anymore. If your heart rate speeds up too much it could be really dangerous," said the girl.
"Oh, nonsense, Sarah. These doctors think they know what's best for us wrinkled, old 'geriatrics', but I know what I still want from life. As long as my legs will carry me, I will continue my daily walks along this tranquil path and smell the life around me."
Days and weeks and months passed. The air gradually developed a slight chill and the leaves turned slowly from green to canary yellow, to a bright amber, to an earthy brown, at which point they fell to the ground. At first Grandfather didn't speak much, but soon enough he was telling Sarah about his life, his dynamic banking career, and his spectacular "hole-in-one" in 1976.
One day when they walked out of the house for the first time in fleece jackets, Sarah finally mustered the courage to ask, "Grandfather? You had lots of girlfriends when you were younger, right? Well, I think this boy might like me. He's always checking up on me at school when I'm practising piano and asking for book recommendations. He's really good at football so I don't know what he sees in me. Recently I realised I might like him back, but I don't know how to...show it."
"Sarah, I am impressed! You are really growing up and ready to meet the world, aren't you? Well, here's what I would suggest. If he's anything like me, he'll fall head over heels for you if you ask to watch one of his games. Try that out and see what happens."
Sarah came with news two weeks later, as they set out for the first time in winter coats, boots and scarves.
"He kissed me, Grandfather, " she said as a snowflake landed on her face, burning ice cold on her cheek and then sliding like a tear to her chin.
"Who kissed you? Sarah, look, it's the first snow of the season!" Exclaimed Grandfather with childlike wonder.
"The boy I told you about! The boy who liked me. His name is Dylan. "
Sarah launched into her romantic story that led up to their kiss after the football game, getting so absorbed in her reverie that she didn't hear Grandfather's heavy breathing until he was already beginning to collapse to the white-coated concrete.
Sarah never did get to finish her story but she knew it was only because of Grandfather's interest and faith in her that there was any story to tell. She was grateful for all of his wisdom and zest for life, until his very last breath. She could only hope to be as good a grandparent one day as he had been to her.