I only have one memory of my grandfather (my other grandparents all passed away before I was born). When he would come over to our house my little sister and I would get very excited and run down the hall to the wall of books - literally a wall lined from floor to ceiling with shelves of books. We would then proceed to each make a pile of chosen favorites and carry them down to the dining room. We would lead grandpa to a chair at the table, each crawl onto his lap and take turns reading our books to him as he sat there with us drinking his beer. And he would sit there until those piles disappeared ... or until our parents shooed us off to play elsewhere. It is only one reoccurring memory, but I treasure it with fondness. How sweet and patient he was with us. Every child should have someone to curl up and read books with.
