"Shhh, Grampa sleeping," the young toddler says with his index finger over pursed lips.
But defying his own warning of courtesy, he approaches.
He kneels down on the grass and concentrates on what he is looking at.
"Grampa sleeping," he says again. He leans over and the gentle puffing breath of a child warms everything within its reach. He and his Grandpa are connected as the young boy stares at him intently. When mischief was about, it was the two of them executing it with synchronized smiles.
"Shhh," the boy says again, secretly hoping for another game. But not satisfied with the grass under his knees, he reaches out. With the effort of a skilled surgeon he caresses the air over his Grandpa, being careful not to disturb him. Despite all his care his hand eventually contacts the granite, and he recoils slightly from the cold touch.
"Grampa sleeping," he says to anyone who will listen as he sits back on the grass.
