“Granddad, how come you have so many wrinkles on your face?”

She asked as he tucked her into bed.

“I don’t think of them a wrinkles…more like waves of life.” He said.


“Each wave carries with it a thought, an emotion a feeling

It’s own memory.”

Then he leaned his face down close to hers…

“Touch one and you’ll see.”


She touched a wave, he smiled, 

“Oh that one is really good.

That’s the day I asked your Grandma to marry me

that same day…she said she would.”


She touched another one.  Granddad closed his eyes.

“That one happened not too long ago…it was in the early morn.

That’s the first time I set eyes on you…the day when you were born.”


She touched another and in her mind it’s the first time her Granddad ever cried.

“That’s a sad one.” He whispered in her ear. “It’s the day your GreatGranddad died.”


She hesitated before touching another one…

“Is there anyway to know Grandad…

which memories are the happy ones and which ones are the sad?”


“No there isn’t.” Her Grandad said. “But there’s no need to fear

for every life, if it’s well lived, has it’s share of laughter, joy and tears.”


“When it comes to memories…happy…sad…memories big…or small

our waves of life do not distinguish…they record them all.”


She continued touching her granddad’s waves and each time out a memory would seep

and he kept telling her stories until she faded off to sleep.


Now whenever her granddad comes to visit…

as he tucks her in…

after they embrace….

He smiles as he asks if she’d like him to read her a Fairy Tale…

knowing her answer…

”No, Granddad I’d rather read your face.”

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