On Saturday, Dec. 23, at around 8:00 a.m. my grandfather Norman suffered a mild stroke and severe bleeding in the brain. Norman is 85, and this year he spent Christmas in Sacred Heart medical Center. He is a great man. I love him dearly and pray for his recovery. As of tonight, he seemed to be stabilizing, but each hour brings a new complication. He will soon be fed by a tube that was inserted in his nostril and runs directly to his intestine, I believe into the duodenum. He is fragile, tired, but still in good humor and laughing. His speech is in and out, sometimes clear, sometimes nonsense. My family has come together to support my grandma, Hazel, and we have spent long hours in the hospital, taking shifts being close to him, supporting her. If you are the praying type, please do so for Norman and Hazel. 
I am the youngest grandchild of my generation, there are young great-grandchildren, but I am the only one who might not get grandpa at my wedding. He used to yell at my cousin and I for listening to our music to loud… we were outside, ten and the music was Billy Joel… but that was grandpa’s job. Also, he yelled at us for playing on the rusty equipment out back. He told war stories. He drank black coffee. He loved cereal and taught me the art of mixing brands to achieve a master cereal. He is always positive. Loves nuts. And can be raciest in the way that only that generation can. “In my day we called Brazil nuts nigger toes.” He is a beautiful man who worked hard as a milkman for years to support his large family. So, send good thoughts Norman’s way.
Norman
December 25th, 2006 § 1
your right… that was insensitive