After a long silence the young girl said, “Grandpa, when you were a kid, were the snows this bad?” “Gee, honey. This is nothing like the snows I had when I was a kid. Did I ever tell you about the snowstorm that covered my house?” he asked. “No, Pop. I don’t think I ever heard that one myself,” said the younger man. Now for the next 20 minutes the old man was in his glory. At one point he even stood up to show them how high the one snowdrift was. Throughout the entire meal everyone chimed in with questions. They laughed, and he lit up like he was on stage.

Just as I was about to leave, I heard the old man say, “You have no idea what this has meant to me. All these years I never thought you were even interested in what I had to say.” “Oh…well, I guess we just didn’t think you wanted to talk,” the woman said.

“Well, nobody bothered to ask me anything. I just figured I was boring. It’s been a tough life, you know. Ever since your mom died I had no one to talk to.” He paused for a moment. I could see him nervously wringing his life-worn hands together. “You see, her and I were like a song. I made the music and she... she was the words,” he said.

Like tough guys of his time are supposed to do, he held back any emotion: “No sense talkin’ if you ain’t got words.” As I turned I looked across the table. I saw the young girl wave and smile at me as she put her arm around her grandfather’s shoulders. She didn’t have to say a word. — Beliefnet.com (Concluded)