• I wiped off the fog that formed from my breath off the window. As I watched the bus move by, I looked out and saw the old man sitting on the same chair that he does every day. His face has at least six wrinkle lines and his nose was curved. His hair was gray and his ears have hair sticking out. He was always there.

    I went to school that day. I sat wondering why he sat there everyday. Was he making sure that we all got on the bus? Or maybe he just sat there for fun. Why does he sit there?

    The next week or so he was there everyday like usual. Then today he wasn't. I thought well he might have forgot. But then he wasn't there the next day either. I started to worry.

    I asked the kids at the stop and they never noticed that he was there, besides his granddaughter. She seemed sad. I asked her, "What happened?"

    "He is in the hospital," she said sadly.

    "Oh! Why?"

    "He's dying."

    After that I was silent. She was too. I was shocked. Why was he dying? Was he just old?

    The next day I looked out and saw his granddaughter at the stop. She sat by me. She started crying her eyes on my backpack. I asked her what was wrong.

    "He died."

    I felt so bad to here that bad news.

    "How?" I asked.

    "He was to old to live any more"

    From that moment on I new what I would do as a grandpa.

    ***

    As I snuggled up in my blanket, I watched my grandson wave goodbye from the bus. I smiled and waved back. In the seat behind him was my granddaughter. After the bus passed my wife came out.

    "You know my grandpa used to sit in a chair like that."

    "Yep, I know."