Reading with My Grandpa

I was very close to my grandma.  Towards the end of her life, she suffered from Parkinson's, did not emote, and could not speak.  But, I loved our weekly visits and always looked forward to them.  It was such a special thing that we had together, but I'll be honest, most of my friends and coworkers didn't understand when I'd tell them about it.  About how I'd arrive full of the stresses of the day, but leave two hours later as calm and relaxed as could be.  She had such a presence, such elegance, for someone who could barely communicate.  And after visiting for a while, I began to understand her moods and little gestures.  She "spoke" in her own way, and it was not that hard to understand her if you actually tried.

Now, my grandpa and I have not been close since I was a little kid.  We used to play cards together, color Easter eggs, share jokes, play games... But, we don't really talk much anymore.  So, when my mom told me that there was a book he had been wanting to read, but couldn't (he's legally blind), and since he was bored being stuck in quarantine (he's not sick, but his building is on lock-down), I agreed to read it to him over the phone.

I wasn't expecting anything monumental, and I don't think he was, either.  We began the phone conversation with him telling me that if I wanted, I could just read the book to myself, and then update him on what it was about.  But, I suggested that we do one day of reading and then decide how to proceed.  He loved it and asked when I could call again.  Today was day two, and we read even more than yesterday (I'm good for about half and hour, but this was easily an hour).  We're already looking forward to tomorrow.