When Grampy Hides Under Pillows

My wife, who joins me in Mali the end of this month, informed me that my grandson Liam, back in Prince Edward  Island,  Canada, was hoping I was in my bed this morning.

She wrote;

​”Liam grabbed my hand and said,”

“I want to show you something Granny. Come see”.

He dragged me in to the bedroom.

 “See, it’s Grampy!”

“No, buddy, sorry that’s just pillows”

There are things you miss while out trying to, ahem, “save the world.” The consequences of some choices are sometimes hard to swallow.  

I hope one day my grandson Liam, like all my grown children, understand that there was something that haunted their father – grandfathers life and soul. There was something that made him very wrestless, in good ways, and some difficult ways. That this story might set them on a path to discover what it was that I had hidden under my pillows. 

“Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.” 

~ Maya Angelou

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