I sat down on the chair across from my grandpa’s wheelchair. Grandpa was 97. He was smaller, more stooped than he had been, but the eyes were the same: alert, focused, interested. His hands, rested on the arms of the wheelchair, were those of a man who had spent his life working. He had just …
Continue reading "A Life Well-Lived: Memorial to my Grandfather"
The Angry Staff Officer 
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