I am staring at the second had go slowly around, 5 minutes until I leave. The house seems a lot quieter than usual, but I’m guessing it’s just because I have the TV off. I hear the air conditioning clunk on as though it is 100 years old. The cold air comes blowing down on me from the ceiling, and goose bumps form on my skin. I shove my hands further into the pockets of my khaki shorts. My button down royal blue shirt is two sizes too small. I suppose since I haven’t worn it in ages that might be the case, or the fact that I have gained a few pounds. The only button on the shirt that isn’t being stretched to its limits is the one closest to my neck. Besides how uncomfortable it is, I have to wear it for my granddaughter. Every time I wear it she comments on how much she loves it because of it being her favorite color.
He name is Isabella; she is my daughter’s daughter. From the start, we have been very close. Her blonde curls and easygoing attitude make her an easy child to get along with. That’s why every Wednesday, when her mom works late, she gets to spend about an hour with me after she’s done with school. Today we are going to get some ice cream at a store that’s close to her house. I look up to check the time, and she will be home from school in about 5 minutes. In my head I go through a mental checklist of everything I need; keys, money, and there was something else. I search through everything I can think of that I could need, but it doesn’t pop into my mind. As I am about to close the door behind me I decide to look back into the house one last time. I see the wilting that I forgot to water again today. My wife won’t be very happy if she comes home from work and realizes that I forgot to water it, again. I am as forgetful as an old man. I sort of feel bad for the plant. It has such potential to be beautiful. When we just got it, it was a beautiful red and pink mix but now it just looks dull. If I go back inside to water the plant, I will definitely be late and Isabella will be left home alone.
I close the door behind me and make my way to the car. I see the garage door close in my rearview mirror as I drive away. It is a short drive to get to their house which is pretty convenient on holidays especially. I pull up to their brand new house just as the bus pulls out of sight. They just recently moved closer to us and built a brand new house, which is perfect for their soon to be expanding family. It was just last week they told us that baby number two was on the way! I don’t quite remember if they told us boy or girl though. I can see out of the window Isabella is running toward the truck, obviously excited. Her backpack which looks like it’s way too big for her body size is bouncing up and down just as much as the curls on her head. As fast as I can, I hop out of the truck to meet her and help her inside the truck.
“You ready to go darling?” I barely manage to say as she right into me as an attempt to give me a hug. Her little body had little impact against mine but it did startle me a little.
“Sorry Grandpa! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
“No honey it’s okay, are you ready to go?” She nods her head and giggles as she heads for the back seat. She needs help buckling in her seat belt which I help her with and then jump into the front. As soon as I got there we leave and are back on the road. The ice cream shop is also remotely close to their house so there won’t be any time for her to be grumpy because of a long car ride.
“What kind of ice cream are you going to get Isabella?” I ask as I’m looking at her through the rearview mirror. She is playing with her long curly hair.
“Hmm, I think peanut butter chocolate crunch swirl,” she says and her eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

Once I get her small body out of the car seat, she darts for the line in front of the almost shed-looking building. Finally when I catch up to her, I start to look at the menu on the side of the building. The building can’t be any bigger than the side of a small room. Also having only three sides probably won’t do very well in the Wisconsin winters that we have. On the open wall they have a table and chair set up for someone to take orders. Finally we’re at the front of the line and Isabell starts to spit out her order, just like she has been there a million times. As I’m looking off into space I realize how ridiculous the workers there look. They have a hat with a life size ice cream sewn onto the top of their hat. Their light green shirt and bright pants that make them look like they are waiting for a flood isn’t helping the cause either. I feel a nudge at my side.
“Grandpa, order!” Isabella is staring at me as well as the lady with her ice cream hat.
“Oh yeah, sorry. Um, just a vanilla cone please.” The teenager, who looks like this must be her first job, types in her order, looking very annoyed.
“$3.98 is your total,” She says as she holds out her hand and blows a rather large bubble with her gum. Fishing through all the things in my pocket I manage to find four crinkled dollar bills.
“Keep the change.”
“Yeah thanks, step over there to wait for your ice cream,” She says as she is already on to her next customer. A older, much friendlier worker comes and brings us our ice cream. Isabella decides she wants to sit at a table underneath the sun to keep the sun out of her eyes and so that her ice cream doesn’t melt. It’s a good thing I grabbed napkins because her ice cream is down all sides of her face. She is almost done once I just finish the ice cream on top of the cone. She sits there patiently waiting for me to finish which surprised me because she usually can’t sit still. Once I’m done we both get up to throw our trash away.
“Are you taking me home now Grandpa?” I nod as we both head for the car. She licks her sticky fingers the whole time while were walking to the car. Almost routine like I put her in her car seat, buckle her in, hop into the front seat, and put on my seat belt.
“Thanks Grandpa,” She says as she looks at me through the rearview mirror. I nod back to her as I feel her innocently kicking at the back of my chair. I pullout of the parking lot and realize that the parking lot is a lot busier than when we got here so it’s good that we got there when we did. At the stop sign a car is waiting in front of me to go, but then I think, right or left? For some reason I just can’t remember. I have driven here a million times. Why can’t I remember? The cars behind me honk, so I decide to turn left to get out of their way. Once I turn I realize that I don’t recognize any of the houses, nothing seems right. Where do I go? I know I have the information in my head on where to go I just can’t find it. Millions of thoughts are flowing through my head so I decide to pull over. Angry drivers speed past me, obviously having places to go.
“Grandpa, what are you doing?” She says and she looks upset and confused. I don’t even know what to say to her, nothing makes sense.
“Um, well, I just can’t think what to do right now.” Is all I manage to say?
“What do you mean?” Her voice sounds unsure like she is about to cry.
“Don’t worry honey it’s okay, I’m just trying to remember.” That answer seems to have calmed her down a little but it definitely hasn’t helped me calm down. I know that you lose your memory with age, but is it really that bad? All of a sudden I feel a sharp pain in my right shoulder. A pain that makes me want to scream but I can’t alarm Isabella. There is something wrong, I just don’t know what, and nothing seems right inside of me. I feel a small scream escape my mouth as another sharp pain in my chest stings through my entire body. Something isn’t right. I decided to call my wife, but where did I put my phone? I reach into all of my pockets desperately searching for something that might not even be there. Finally, in the last pocket I Iooked in, I found it. The phone feels heavy in my hand, like I’ve never used it before. The buttons feel funny too. I try to type in the number for my wife but I can’t remember her number.

“Grandpa? What’s wrong?” She looks terrified as a tear escapes her eye.


“Honey it’s okay, but I think something is wrong with Grandpa, but don’t worry everything is going to be okay.” I think that’s the best answer I can give, given the circumstances. My eyes start to blur, just like when your eyes fill up with tears right when you start to cry, and I know something is wrong. I feel all of the limbs on my body get heavy. I feel like I can’t hold up my head. The phone falls out of my hand.

“Isabella!” I scream, “Isabella!”

“Grandpa! Are you okay? Grandpa?” Her voice seems so far away as I try to answer her but nothing seems to make sense anymore. My head feels like a big bowl of spaghetti and it’s all jumbled around making no sense. My hands shake and I don’t have the strength to stop them. I hear her unbuckling her seatbelt and screaming but it sounds so far away…
-

There is someone standing over me. I don’t recognize his face though but he is dressed like a doctor.

“Hello Richard, do you know where you are?” he asks. I feel scared. I can’t say anything, I try to open my mouth but nothing comes out. My hand moves, my wife is next to me holding my hand. She looks terrible, like she hasn’t slept in days. There are a couple doctors walking around me now, checking these monitors I’m hooked up to.

“What’s going on?” I finally shout a little louder than I meant to. “Where’s Isabella?

“You’re okay Richard, you had a stroke. You’re in the hospital, and you’re doing okay,” The doctor says to me. A stroke? I had a stroke? Old people have strokes, not me. I’m not that old.

“Where’s Isabella?” I ask for the second time. I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t happening.

“She’s okay. She got help for you when you lost consciousness,” My wife says as she holds my hand. I just don’t understand how this happened.

“The good news is that you get to go home sometime this week, all of your tests came back positive and you are already showing that your improving,” doctor says, “you will just be on blood thinners from now on to keep your blood pumping.”

I’m still in shock, what do I even say to that? They act like all this is good news. My head hurts and I just want to go back to bed. I’m hooked up to all of these monitors and everything feels funny.

“Are you up for a surprise?” My wife says. Did she say a surprise? Like this isn’t enough shock for one day. Apparently the fact that I didn’t answer is a green light to let in the surprise. I don’t understand how everyone is so cheerful. I see a bouncy head of curls walk through the doorway, and she is the person I have been waiting to see since I woke up.

“Grandpa!” She yells holding a teddy bear in one hand and balloons that say ‘Get Well Soon’ on them in the other.

“Hi Isabella, thank you for helping me today,” Is all I can manage to say. Tears swell up in my eyes. I know I don’t want to cry in front of her to upset her. I look to my left, and I see what looks like the plant that was at my house, but it was full of color and bright. That flower gives me hope, not just for me, but for my family. I may not be as young as I once was, but I’m not as old as I could be.