My dead grandfather came alive in my dreams last night, sitting beside my side of the bed in a lawn chair, the old kind with latticed strips of bright-striped fabric, the kind everybody had before things got complicated. He said nothing but reached with his left hand and took my right and held it longer than I expected but that was alright with me for I’ve not seen him in a long time, not in this life or my dreams. As my dead grandfather released his grasp and stood to leave I spoke through tears: I never really knew you. He paused, smiled, pointed to the west window, then whispered so as not to wake the house: Just see where this life takes you. There’s a lot left to be described. You knew I loved you. That is enough.