When I saw the cruel message scrawled on my ailing grandfather’s dusty car, I was furious. But discovering the culprit’s identity was just the beginning. What I did next would teach this neighbor a lesson she would never forget. Two months ago, I was at work when my phone rang. It was Mom. “Meg, it’s Grandpa,” she barely managed to speak. “He’s in the hospital. He’s…” “What? In the hospital?” I interrupted, totally shocked. “What happened?” “He had a heart attack,” Mom continued, her voice shaking. “We have to go see him.”
“Oh my God, Mom, is he okay?” “I don’t know, Meg…” “I’ll get there as fast as I can, Mom,” I replied as I quickly logged out of my work email. The thing is, Grandpa Alvin is my rock, my confidant, and my favorite person in the world. It wouldn’t be wrong to say that I love him more than Mom. Shh! It’s a secret! That call from Mom had turned my world upside down. I literally had a knot in my stomach as I ran out of my office after informing my boss of Grandpa’s condition. The drive home from my workplace was a blur. I don’t remember how I got there, but I quickly picked up Mom before rushing to the hospital. The drive from our house to the hospital took about 45 minutes. And let me tell you, it was the longest and most painful 45 minutes of my life. Mom couldn’t stop crying the whole way, while I felt my heart pounding inside my chest.
When we got there, a nurse told us that Grandpa was in the operating room. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came out. “The operation was a success, but he needs rest and care,” he told us. “He needs to eat a heart-healthy diet, low in salt and saturated fat. Regular, gentle exercise is crucial. And no stress.”
“Is he really okay?” Mom asked impatiently. “Don’t worry,” the doctor reassured her. “He’s resting comfortably now. The nurses will let you know when it’s a good time to visit him.” Grandpa was able to go home a few days later, but there was a problem. He lives in another city, and we couldn’t visit him every day to care for him. So we hired a full-time nurse. It was a godsend, as she also agreed to cook for him. For two months, Grandpa didn’t leave his apartment and focused exclusively on his recovery.
“Mom,” I said over breakfast, “I’m going to visit Grandpa this weekend. Do you want to come?” Her eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea, honey,” she smiled. “I’ll go with you. He’ll be so happy to see us.” “Perfect!” I said before taking a bite of my scrambled eggs. On Saturday I got up early, bought a bouquet of Grandpa’s favorite bright yellow sunflowers, and drove to his house with Mom.