my Grampo

Grampo has been in the hospital for the past couple of days. Against his doctor's recommendation he was having a stint put into an artery. Because he doesn't have as much energy as he used to and he's sure it's because of this narrowed passageway.

Never mind that he's 94. Testa duro. (translation: hard-headed)

So anyway he had the operation and he's fine. Went home yesterday.

By the time he left he had all the nurses charmed and had delighted me in so many ways.... and he was looking so good I finally told him it was a good plan he had. He patted my hand and said, "I know, Piccolina.... what these doctors don't realize is I gotta be there to take care of your Grams."

I was sitting in the window seat studying while he slept and my Grams entered the room with my mom after eating their lunch. Grampo was all dressed and ready to go home. Sleeping there in his chair, red plaid shirt tucked in, clean-shaven, shoes polished, his belongings in a bag on his lap.... he opened his eyes when Grams walked in.

Grams looked at him and asked, "Daddy, why are you wearing that belt? Where are your suspenders? "

To which Grampo replied, "Oh, Mama, I'm trying to give you some variety." Then he winked.

When the nurse came to give him his discharge instructions, Grampo looked on the paper and said, quite seriously, "Wait a while, wait a while... where's it say I need my glass of red wine?"

The nurse, who had become accustomed to Grampo's teasing, said, "Mr. Sordi, whatever you've been doing, you keep doing it. I talked to my husband about you for an hour last night. He's 58 years younger than you and you look better than he does."

Grampo squeezed her hand, told her thanks for taking such good care of him, and then recommended she stop at the store on her way home. To pick up a bottle of red wine.

Grampo. I love him.