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Grandpa Albert's Deep-Down Joy

by Ruthie Alekseeva  
10/12/2024 / Short Stories

Chapter One

“WHOOPIE!” Bryce shouts, his arms high in the air as if whirling down a cork-screw rollercoaster at one of his favourite theme parks. “This is so much fun!”

Bryce sits next to his grandfather in a trishaw, a type of rickshaw where one person rides a bike while pulling two passengers behind them in a carriage.  Today, Blaise is driving it and his grandfather’s dog, Daisy, rolls around in Bryce’s lap. “Yap! Yap! Yap!” she barks, enjoying the fun too.

Then, Grandpa Albert laughs also. “You’re enjoying this, Bryce, aren’t you? I am too.”

Bryce nods, blinking his eyes in the bright yellow sunshine. “This is the best fun ever!”

“Yes, I love cruising along in this trishaw. It takes me back to my younger years, when I would go bike riding with your grandmother, back when we were dating.”

Mr Leech sits next to Grandpa in the trishaw. He doesn’t smile, and he doesn’t shout “Wee!” Instead, he sits with his arms folded across his chest, his mouth frowning. “Humpf!” he says. “Who talked me into this?”

Bryce, not seeming to hear him, shouts, “Blaise, I like it best when you’re our rider. I’m glad you work at Sandbank Rest Home, organising fun activities for Grandpa and the other older people to do, so they won’t get bored.”

As Blaise pushes the grey pedals of the trishaw with his feet, he turns his head. Looking over his shoulder, he smiles. Then, shouting into the wind, the speed of the trishaw is blowing into his reddening face, he says, “If you think this is fun, get ready for the next little bit - our favourite, the big hill!”

Then, Blaise turns a corner and all Bryce can see is hills, slopes and ridges. Thunk, wiz wiz, wiz, the oily bike chain sounds as Blaise pushes on the trishaw’s pedals. Then, click, click, click, click, click goes the back wheel as the trishaw coasts along, at great speed, down the now steeply descending bike path.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” Bryce and Grandpa Albert laugh together, enjoying the thrill of the trishaw’s quickening momentum, but then, Daisy’s barking increases in volume and Grandpa stops laughing. His mouth turning downward, resembling Mr Leech’s, as his eyes grow worried.

Woah! Woah! Woah!” he shouts. “Slow down, Blaise!”

“AGGGH!” Mr Leech yells, gripping the carriage of the trishaw with all of his fingers.

Blaise tries to slow the trishaw down but it doesn’t, at least not straight away, causing the front tyre to wobble and the carriage Bryce, Grandpa and Mr Leech sit in to bounce.

A purple jacaranda tree, growing beside the bikeway, waves its branches in the breeze, then freezes as if thinking, “Yowch! This is going to hurt!”

Chapter Two

“Bryce!” a new voice shouts, once the trishaw has come to a standstill. “Are you okay?”

The new voice belongs to Bryce’s mother. She is also cycling. Not a trishaw but her own purple mountain bike. She looks scared, her face the same shade of white as the flowering jasmine vine creeping up the tree behind her.

“Sorry, Mrs Muirhead. I didn’t know the trishaw would bounce,” Blaise says.

Bryce’s mother creases her brow. “I was so worried the trishaw would tip over and my father and Bryce would strike their heads on the pavement.” Then, she shoots Blaise a look of relief. “But they didn’t, so all’s well that ends well, I suppose.”

Blaise wipes his sweaty forehead with his hand, then smiles. “Don’t worry Mrs Muirhead,” he says, his voice puffing as his chest heaves up and down. I’m an experienced cyclist. I know what I’m doing.”

Then, Mr Leech lifts his arm. He looks angry, his face turning pink as he points a trembling finger at a white and red sign beside the bike path. “The speed limit on this cycle-way is five kilometres per hour, but it felt like this trishaw was flying along at one hundred!”

Blaise blows air out the bottom of his mouth. “A hundred? I’m lugging a carriage behind me, so I don’t think it could have reached a hundred. Maybe, the brakes need some maintenance. I’ll tell the manager when we get back.”

Not satisfied, Mr Leech’s face becomes the colour of a Kentucky Fried Chicken meal box. “You’re not the only one who’ll be talking to the manager. I’m putting in a complaint.”

Blaise crinkles his brow, then without saying a word, cycles Bryce, Grandpa Albert and Mr Leech back towards the white mini-bus that will take them all back to Sandbank Rest Home where Mr Leech keeps his word, reporting the dangerous incident to the nursing home’s manager.

“Sheesh!” they hear Blaise say to the nurse manager, as mum pushes Grandpa, back to his room. “It’s not my fault, but I’m glad nothing tragic happened.”

Bryce notes that the walk to Grandpa’s room is quiet. It seems no one feels like talking now, not even Daisy, Bryce thinks. I guess, our near crash has put a dampener on our day.

Bryce looks at Mum’s face. It still looks shaken.

Then, grandpa smiles. “Come on, Aggie, let it go.”

Mum raises her eyebrows. “What do you mean let it go? You could have died and, also, Blaise got in trouble.”

Bryce leans over. He picks a scrap of ripped paper towel off the floor and throws it in the bin as he passes by it. Then, something wonderful happens, changing their mood.

Chapter Three

Sachin, a jovial Nepalese nurse, who works at Sandbank Rest Home, pops out of one of the residents’ bedrooms. He sees Bryce throw the ripped paper towel in the bin and says,

“Ahh! Bryce, great work! Picking trash up for us. I wish the boss could give you a job here. Honestly, some of the staff we get in don’t even know how to take a plate off a table!” Sachin winks at Grandpa. “Isn’t that right, Albert?”

Grandpa laughs. “Sachin! Good to see you here! I’m glad you’re working this afternoon. How was your two-week holiday?”

Sachin smiles. “Loved it! I went to Greece and then Spain and, after that, I didn’t want to come back.”

Grandpa Albert laughs again, then says, “Well, I, for one, am glad you did.”

Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz. Sachin looks at a screen hanging down from the ceiling. Green letters flash across it, spelling out the words, ‘Room 16.’ “Hmm, that’s Mrs Henshaw’s room. She has set off her sensor beam, a mechanism that alerts the nurses that she has climbed out of bed. She probably wants the toilet. I’ll take her, then I’ll come straight back and help Preeti get you ready for dinner.”

Grandpa nods. “That will give me enough time to say goodbye to Bryce and his mother, Aggie.”

Now in Grandpa Albert’s bedroom, Daisy jumps off Grandpa Albert’s lap and lies down on a cushion in the corner of the room, allowing Bryce to give Grandpa a big hug.

“It was great seeing you again today,” Grandpa says.

Bryce nods with enthusiasm. “And it’s school holidays, so we’re coming back again tomorrow, aren’t we Mum?”

Mum smiles at last. “Yes and what activity do the residents of Sandbank Rest Home have on tomorrow?”

Bryce looks at an activity calender Blu-Tacked to Grandpa Albert’s wall. He places his finger on it, then slides it across the calendar until he reaches the box marked 28^th September. Running his finger down the list of activities, he reads them out loud. “Chair exercises at nine o’clock, knitting circle at eleven but, best of all, at one o’clock, it’s their annual Water Fun day!”

“And what do we do on Water Fun day?” Grandpa Albert asks.

Bryce grins. “Water fight!”

Grandpa Albert laughs. “That’s right, so don’t forget your water pistol.”

“Don’t worry, Grandpa, I’m bringing the biggest, ugliest, blastiest water gun I can find.”

Grandpa Albert shrugs his shoulders. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll still win, just like I did last year.”

Bryce curls his fingers around the grip of an imaginary water pistol and aims it at Grandpa. “Last year, I was nine, but this year I’m ten, so look out!”

Then, Grandpa’s door swings open, revealing Sachin who is pushing a blue-and grey machine.

Chapter Four

“Come on, Bryce,” Mum says. “Let’s leave Sachin and Grandpa to it.”

But Bryce begs, placing his hands together as if pleading. “Please Mum, not yet. I love watching Grandpa go up and down in the machine.”

Mum smiles. She glances at Grandpa. “Is that okay with you?”

Grandpa Albert smiles too. “Of course, it’s all right, Aggie. You know that.”

Preeti, another nurse from Nepal, steps into the room. She looks weary. “You’ll never guess what, Mr Leech threw his afternoon tea at me. Look at this,” she says, showing them a smoosh of chocolate-cake icing that has discoloured her uniform.”

Sachin draws his eyebrows together, then shakes his head. “That’s not kind. I wish he wasn’t so crochety and that he didn’t take his unhappiness out on us nurses. We’re only trying to help.”

“But I always enjoy helping Albert. He’s never like that,” Preeti says, brightening up. Then, Preeti glances at her watch. “Okay, it’s almost four. Let’s do this. We don’t want to run late for dinner.”

Preeti and Sachin slide a sling behind Grandpa Albert’s back, then pull the two straps of the sling under his thighs and up between them. They connect the plastic hooks of the sling to the blue-and-grey lifting machine that they call a hoist. Then, Preeti pushes a blue button on the lifting device, sliding Grandpa Albert out of his wheelchair and into the air.

Grandpa Albert waves his hands at Bryce. Grinning, he says, “Look at me! I’m flying!”

Bryce chuckles

Sachin pushes the wheelchair to Grandpa’s ensuite, out of the way, then helps Preeti guide Grandpa’s suspended body over to the bed. Then, Preeti pushes another blue button on the hoist, this time sliding Grandpa down through the air and onto the bed.

Bryce chuckles again. “That’s so cool! I wish I could have a ride. Can I?”

Chapter Five

Sachin winks at Bryce. “Don’t worry, if you live to be old, soon enough, you will.”

“Okay Albert, open wide,” Sachin says.

Grandpa Albert opens his mouth, but Sachin shakes his head. “Come on, bigger than that. Open your mouth wide open like a Dubbo Zoo tiger.”

Grandpa Albert opens his mouth bigger, then, wearing latex gloves, Sachin removes Grandpa Albert’s teeth and cleans them with a blue toothbrush and white, minty toothpaste. Sachin drops the shining teeth into a dental cup full of water, then plops a white Steradent tablet in it too, causing fizzy micro bubbles to foam in the water which cleanses the false teeth even more deeply.

“Ahh! What am I doing?” Sachin says, smacking his hand with his forehead. “You haven’t eaten dinner yet. Here, have your teeth back.”

Grandpa opens his mouth, allowing Sachin to slide the false teeth back in again. “I think your brain must still be in Spain, Sachin,” Grandpa says, once they’re snuggly back in place.

Sachin grins. “You know what? I think you’re right. Ahh, Spain! The food, the parks, the architecture, the Caminito Del Rey, I tell you, I didn’t want to come back.”

Then, Preeti passes Sachin a white washer. Sachin runs the tap in the bathroom sink until the water grows warm, then he wets the washer and throws it at Grandpa Albert. SPLAT! The washer lands on Grandpa’s face, completely covering it! Mum, Bryce and Preeti laugh, but Grandpa laughs the most, saying, “Sachin, where would I be without you?”

Sachin grins. “Can you imagine what would happen if I had done that to anyone else?”

Preeti giggles. “Poor Mrs Henshaw would have thought you were assaulting her.”

“And Mr Leech? Ahh! I’d be in big trouble!”

Sachin peels the washer off Grandpa’s face. He washes slimy goo out of the corners of Grandpa Albert’s eyes with it, then washes his forehead, cheeks, mouth and chin.

“Does that feel better?” Sachin asks, as he uses the washer to clean Grandpa Albert’s hands.

Grandpa nods. “It feels so much better.”

Sachin smiles, then he turns towards Bryce and his Mum. “Okay, enough giggling. Now, it’s time to do the yucky part.”

Bryce creases his brow. “What yucky part?”

Mum tugs Bryce’s arm. “You know. Sachin and Preeti are about to change Grandpa’s incontinence pad.

How embarrassing, Bryce thinks. That’s a nappy Grandpa wears because, now that he’s old, he can’t feel when he needs to use the toilet anymore. So, sometimes, he wees in his pants.

Then, walking out the door, Bryce grips his fingers around an imaginary water gun, saying, “Pow! Pow! Pow! See you tomorrow.”

Chapter Six

The next day, right before afternoon tea, Grandpa and some of the other elderly people that live at Sandbank Rest Home sit in a line in their wheelchairs out on the grassy lawn area of the nursing home under a tall rosy trumpet tree covered in pink trumpet-shaped flowers. Mr Leech is there too. Once again, he sits with his arms crossed and his mouth stern. “What nonsense!” he says. “I’m not playing,” but the blades of grass in the grassy lawn area and the tall rosy trumpet tree behind him shake their leaves up and down, as if saying, “We’ve waited all year for this too, Bryce!”

 “All right,” says Blaise. “It’s finally time for our annual great water fight! Now, Bryce, and all you other family members, your team’s name is Team Relatives. Stand on the other side of this grassy lawn area facing Team Sandbank.

Bryce, Mum and all the others follow Blaise’s instructions.

 “Great! Now, each of you have a water gun and a red bucket of water beside you for refilling them. On the count of three, you have two minutes to shoot the person standing opposite you. The winner is the team that drenches their opponents the wettest, with me judging which team that is.”

Blaise points at a water gun that has been spray painted gold and glued to a wooden plaque to look like a homemade trophy. “The winning team wins this sparkly gold prize. ”

Then, Blaise holds his left hand high up in the air. He looks right, then he looks left, eyeing the water fight participants, ensuring that they’re ready. “One…two…three,” he shouts, then drops his hand as he calls out three like a flag waver at a V8 supercar race.

Chaos ensues with jets of water spraying every which way. Shouts, laughter and Daisy’s excited barking ring in the air.

After a moment, Grandpa says, “I’m out! I’m out!”

Blaise runs toward him, takes the orange water pistol out of Grandpa Albert’s hand and dips it in the red bucket beside him, refilling it with water. Then, he helps the other elderly members of Team Sandbank, as their pistols run out of water also, releasing a fresh shower of water. Then, Blaise looks at his watch. “Ten…nine…eight,” he counts until his timer reaches one and then zero. “Times up! Everyone put their pistols away.”

Bryce drops his water pistol on the ground, then slicks his soaking-wet hair off his forehead with his hands. “That was so much fun! I can’t wait to do it again next year!”

Blaise places his hands behind his back. He half closes his eyes, then marches up and down the grassy lawn area, like a police officer on duty, inspecting the members of Team Relatives first and then the members of Team Sandbank.

“All right. This is my conclusion. The trophy for this year’s water fight goes to…” Blaise pauses for dramatic effect, then shouts, “Team Relatives with a special commendation going to Bryce Muirhead.” Blaise grins at Bryce. “Take a look at your grandpa! He’s absolutely saturated!”

Bryce looks over at Grandpa. They exchange bemused smiles, then laugh.

Chapter Seven

Then, Sachin appears. He crinkles his forehead. “Blaise! What have you done? Look at all these dripping residents. We’d better get them into dry clothes or they’ll get a case of the shivers.” But as Sachin wheels Grandpa Albert away, Daisy sitting on his lap, he throws Blaise a wide smile giving Bryce the impression that he’s not mad at all, once again, only joking.

Mum towels Bryce and herself dry, then follows them, saying, “That was a great afternoon! Not as hair-raising as yesterday.”

As they pass a corner, Bryce spies a poster stuck to the wall of the home. “Cool! The Christmas lights cruise is on again this year. Grandpa, are you going?”

Grandpa Albert’s eyes light up. “Yes, I was disappointed when I had to leave my real home and come to Sandbank Rest Home but instead of only seeing the Christmas lights decorating the houses in the streets, because Sandbank Rest Home is right on the banks of the beach canals, now I get to cruise them, seeing the Christmas lights and decorations that cover the beach-canal living apartments also.”

Once inside Grandpa Albert’s bedroom, Bryce turns, looking out the window. He watches sunlight twinkle like diamonds on the centre of each ripple of water in the beach canal beside Grandpa’s nursing home then sighs, remembering what this view looked like at night last year when all the Christmas lights on the beach-canal apartments were gleaming.

Then, Grandpa Albert rubs his thighs. Squinting, he groans. “Ouch! My legs are playing up tonight.”

Bryce looks at Grandpa Albert’s legs, then, remembering Grandpa doesn’t like it when people stare at them, he looks away. Grandpa doesn’t have legs anymore, Bryce thinks. He has diabetes, an illness where your body can’t break down sugar. It makes your skin get infected, so you’re supposed to wear shoes all the time, even when you’re inside, but Grandpa forgot one time and stepped on a rose thorn in the garden. His foot became infected, and the doctors had to chop his leg off just under the knee, then the other leg was removed also. Now, he only has thighs, and although he only has thighs, he still feels pain in his chopped off legs. It’s called phantom leg pain.

Carmelita, a nurse from the Philippines appears, then Mum places her hands on Bryce’s shoulders. “Come on, Bryce, let’s leave Sachin and Carmelita to it. We’ll find the head nurse on our way out and tell her Grandpa needs pain killers for the ache in his legs.”

Bryce glances at Grandpa Albert’s thighs again, hugs him, pats Daisy, then follows Mum out of the doorway.

Chapter Eight

Brrring! Brrring!

That night, while lying in his bed, Bryce hears the phone ring.

“What did you say?” he hears Mum say, in a groggy-sounding voice. “Oh no! Please, no!”

Then, Bryce hears the shower turn on then off and the front door opening then closing. A little while later, his dad enters the room. “Bryce,” Dad whispers. “Bryce, wake up.”

Bryce sits up in bed, his eyes half open. He stares at his dad, feeling as though confusion must be written all over his face.

“Grandpa’s not well. The nurses at Sandbank Rest Home think he might die. They’ve sent him to hospital. Mum’s gone to see him. We think, that if you want to see him too, one last time before he passes, you’ll have to go now also.”

Bryce’s eyes fill with tears. “But I love Grandpa Albert, and we were going to see the Christmas lights together.”

Dad hugs Bryce. He squeezes him tight. “I know you love him, matey, but it looks like it’s his time to go.”

Out on the pavement in front of his house, still wearing his pajamas, the black night air feels still and cool against his teary face.  Then, Bryce slides into the back seat of Dad’s car and they drive in silence past a bus stop with a smiling real estate agent on it, proclaiming that he’s the best at selling houses in the area; a house with a speedboat, on a trailer, in the front yard; and a roundabout with a circular hedge growing on it and a tree and lamppost sticking out its middle.

Then, Bryce sees it: Tarrango Shores Hospital, and although nearing the early hours of the morning, its lights are all lit up. It looks like a Christmas tree, Bryce thinks, his tear drops falling even faster as he realises once again, Grandpa Albert won’t get to see the Christmas lights decorating the beach-canal living apartments this year.

Dad finds a carpark, then they take an elevator to the third floor. DING! The elevator doors slide open and there stands Mum. She looks awful, Bryce thinks. Her cheeks are wet, and her eyes look red.

Bryce steps forward. He throws his arms around Mum’s waist, then buries his head in her clothing. “Mum, I don’t want him to die.”

Mum squeezes Bryce back, then kisses him on the head. “Neither do I, but let’s be brave and strong. Let’s do this for Grandpa.”

Mum takes Bryce by the hand, then leads him towards Grandpa Albert’s cubicle, drawing back the curtains.

Chapter Nine

Bryce gasps. I’ve never seen Grandpa look like that before. His eyes are closed, his face pale, his skin moist and he has a plastic mask covering his mouth and nose. Bryce shudders as he notes that the mask makes an unnerving sucking noise, as Grandpa breathes in and out.

Mum sits on a seat in the corner of Grandpa Albert’s hospital cubicle, then motions for Bryce to come near. Bryce steps towards Mum, then she places him on her lap, hugging him tight. They watch as a nurse inside the cubicle fiddles with a thin, plastic tube that seems to be entering Grandpa Albert’s wrist. She glances at Bryce, her eyes soft. Next, she watches Grandpa’s chest rise up and down while looking at her watch, as if counting the speed of his breathing. Then, before leaving, she shoots Mum a sympathetic smile, saying, “I’ll be at the nurse’s station, if you need anything.”

All three, Mum, Dad and Bryce, sit in silence a moment, with Bryce glancing fearfully around him. I don’t like it here, he thinks. It smells funny, and I can hear beeping sounds and buzzing noises. It makes me feel like aliens have landed.

Then, Mum slides Bryce off her lap, stands, touches Grandpa’s arm and breaks the silence. “Dad?” she says, “Dad?” But Grandpa Albert doesn’t respond. His eyes remain closed, and his mask continues rasping.

Mum looks back at Bryce and Dad, then looks at Grandpa. She swallows, then says, “Dad, thanks for all the good times like the trip to Magic Mountain, Thorngrove Castle and The Big Banana. I know I wasn’t always easy. I’m so sorry for all of that. Thanks for being my Dad. I love you a lot. I’ll miss you so much.”

Then, it’s Dad’s turn. He places his hand on Grandpa Albert’s damp hair. “Albert, you’re the best father-in-law a clueless young kid, like I was, could ever have had. Without your guidence, I’d never have gotten the hang of becoming a husband and father.”

Bryce looks at Mum and Dad, feeling bereft. Mum takes his hand, then brings him towards his grandfather. “Honey? Is there anything you want to say? If so, you need to say it now.”

Bryce sniffles. He tries to speak but his voice breaks, so he simply cries out, “Grandpa, I love you. Please, don’t go.”

Mum and Dad wrap their arms around Bryce, comforting him. They close their eyes, then Dad places his hand on Grandpa Albert’s arm and prays. “Dear Jesus, thank you that Grandpa Albert is in your hands. Please take away any pain he may be experiencing, any weakness, nausea and all other discomfort. Please, help him through this time.”

Then, while they all still have their eyes closed, the rasping, sucking noise emanating from the plastic mask on Grandpa’s face squeaks and grows silent.

Chapter Ten

Bryce sits on the grassy lawn area of Sandbank Rest Home. He sits there as his Mum and Dad finish packing up Grandpa Albert’s room. Daisy sits on his lap, softly licking his face. Bryce looks at Daisy. He pats her behind the ears. “You miss him too don’t you, girl?

Daisy rubs her face against Bryce’s cheek.

“Grandpa used to sit out here under the rosy trumpet tree with you jumping around his feet. He’d play his guitar and sing songs about Jesus. Sitting here with you makes me feel like he’s still here.”

Bryce stares at the rosy trumpet tree. Usually, it’s leaves are fluttering, ruffled by the sea breeze racing up the beach canals, but today, it stands still, as if missing Grandpa too.

Soon, Sachin appears. His smile is smaller than usual, and he’s not jovial.

He knows I’m not in a joking mood right now, Bryce thinks.

Sachin rubs Daisy under the chin, then places his hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “How are you going, little guy?”

Bryce wipes a tear away from his eyes. How am I going? Bryce thinks. “I don’t know how to reply. After Grandpa’s plastic mask stopped making raspy, sucking noises, frenzy broke out. Dad placed his hand over my eyes. He said, ‘Keep your eyes shut. I don’t want you seeing this.’ Then, Mum led me out of the cubicle. I could hear her crying. I heard footsteps running and hushed voices. I think those were the doctor’s and nurses’. Then, Mum said that Grandpa had died, and then I cried also.”

Sachin inhales, then sits on the grassy lawn area beside Bryce. “That’s a lot to experience. I bet it’s left you dealing with huge emotions.”

Bryce nods, then leans his head against Sachin’s upper arm. They sit a moment, then Blaise appears. He is carrying a rectangular package. Blaise squeezes Bryce’s shoulder. “I thought I might find you here.”

Blaise sits on the grassy lawn area also, then places the package on the grass in front of Bryce. “All the staff of Sandbank Rest Home chipped in and bought you something. I know it won’t make up for losing your Grandpa, but I hope it helps a little.”  

Bryce places a hand on the package in front of him. He feels the soft paper with his fingers, then he tears it open. Bryce gasps.

“It’s a watercolour painting of the beach canals with all the beach-canal living apartments lit up with Christmas lights.”

Blaise grins. “Sachin painted it, and the rest of us chipped in for the picture frame. Hey, there’s something else in there.”

Chapter Eleven

Bryce slips his hand inside the torn-open packaging, pulling out a blue card. It’s signed by all the nurses. “I’m sorry for your loss,” one comment says. “My heart goes out to you and your family,” says another. “Please know that you’re not alone. We’re only a visit away.”

Bryce throws his arms around Sachin, then Blaise. “Thank you!” he says. “I’ll keep this forever.”

Sachin hugs him back. “And I’ll remember your grandfather forever.”

“Yeah,” Blaise says. “He had severe disabilities, like no legs and no teeth. He experienced phantom leg pain, couldn’t use the toilet by himself anymore and his diabetes had also affected his heart, kidneys and vision, but instead of becoming grumpy like Mr Leech or despondent like Mrs Henshaw, although he did express frustration and sadness sometimes, overall, somehow, he managed to keep a positive outlook.”

Sachin nods. “He could always find something to feel grateful for. It’s like he had a secret source of deep-down joy.” Sachin scratches his head. “How do you think he did that?”

Bryce looks at the beach canals behind the pink rosy trumpet tree. He watches cars drive over the cement bridge that links one bank to the other. First a light-blue combi van with a surfboard on top, then a white truck followed by a red car. He notes the grey sea water of the canals turns the pylons of the bridge olive green right above the waterline, that a white speed boat is moored beside the jetty of each beach-canal living apartment and that a noisy drill buzzes on the right bank, where rust-red scaffolding indicates that construction workers are building more beach-canal living apartments.

“Where did Grandpa get his secret deep-down joy from?” Bryce finally says. “He got it from God. Once, while Grandpa sat out here, playing his guitar and singing songs about Jesus, he told me the Bible says our bodies are tents and that one day, perhaps even today, he was going to Heaven to see Grandma again and that God would give him a new body that would never grow old and never become sick.

I also don’t need to feel bad that Grandpa won’t get to see the Christmas lights this year because the Bible says in Heaven there will be a city that shines with the glory of God and that it is as bright as jasper, which is a very expensive gem. It’s decorated with every kind of jewel, including sapphire, chalcedony, emerald, onyx, carnelian, chrysolite, beryl, topaz, chrysoprase, jacinth and amethyst, and its gates are made of pearls. That’s way better than any Christmas light or decoration we could ever experience here! So, I’m kind of glad Grandpa lives there now, and I can’t wait to see Heaven myself and see Grandpa Albert again.”

Our bodies are like tents that we live in here on earth.

 But when these tents are destroyed,

 we know that God will give each of us a place to live.

These homes will not be buildings someone has made,

but they are in heaven and will last forever… 

These tents we now live in are like a heavy burden, and we groan.

But we don't do this just because we want

to leave these bodies that will die.

 It is because we want to change them for

bodies that will never die

… So always be cheerful!

1 Corinthians 5:1-6 (NKJV)

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