As Michael stood beside the table and watched the nurse lead his grandparents into the room and over to him, he recalled all the times as a child that he’d watch his grandmother knit while he listened to his grandfather spin one yarn after another about things that had happened in his youth.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched them sit down at the table and look at him with smiles on their faces but not really knowing who he was. He wished again that he could go back and be a kid again with them.
He sat down across from them, reached into a bag, and pulled out a ball of red yarn and some knitting needles. “Grandma,” he said, “knit something for me, please.” He turned to his grandfather. “Grandpa, tell me again about that time you went fishing and caught that huge catfish.”
His grandparents grinned, and he saw a spark of recognition in their eyes at last. “Michael,” they said happily.
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