Grandpa, It 's Me Essay
“Grandpa, it’s me. I am your granddaughter, Ruth,” she said, feeling terrible that her once brilliant minded Grandfather no longer recognized her, as this often happened.
“Where’s your white uniform?” He asked, his hands shaking. “Are you going to take me home?"
“Grandpa, I’m not your nurse, but your granddaughter, Ruth,” she said, picking up his hand and rubbing the side of his face.
“Oh, honey, it’s you,” he said, recognizing her as his blue eyes sparkled. “I didn’t sleep well, the screams kept me awake again. They just kept screaming,” he said, wringing his hands.
“Would you like to discuss them?” Ruth asked, feeling her news reporter instincts working she wondered if the screams were in the hospital or his mind.
“I had better not,” he said and continued, “Honey, I never discussed this with anyone. You remember when they hired me as the manager’s at the store in Howardsville. I thought it would help me move up the corporate ladder, but no one knows the hell that is in that town. A few months after your grandmother and I moved to Howardsville, I started hearing screams and seeing the lights on the mountain. I tried talking to the guys at the diner across the street from the store.…