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Joy

Saturday, October 18, 2014
He was supposed to die. I assume only I thought he would. I heard the adults talk about how my grandfather was under the car that knock him down. And I thought to myself "whoa, that is enough to claim anybody's life". 

Actually my grandfather swore he died. He said "I was gone for maybe 20 seconds" , he looked over at my grandmother and breathe, "but I thought of your grandmother, and how she's all alone battling stroke and I jolted awake". Which explains why the first thing he asked me when he saw me was "how is your grandmother".

He is a rugged man, or a 'sufferer' - in his own terms. The wounds hurt him, but he couldn't care less about the pain. He speaks with joy and enthusiasm. The nurse wanted to wheel him into another ward and he said "let's go!" in great delight. He look at me with stars in his eyes when he requested for some of his favourite bread from bread talk. He had metal things in and on his leg to put the broken bones back into place, and he told me he wanted the doctors to make him into iron man or transformers.

It is a great time to be around this man.