Lilac Grove Retirement Complex is way out in the suburbs, so I have to make two bus transfers and then walk several blocks to get there. I don’t mind, though, because it’s a nice day. When I arrive at Lilac Grove, lots of elderly folks are wandering about the grounds, but not Granddad. I know exactly where I’ll find him. Sure enough, he’s on the wide back veranda, happily strumming on his guitar and smiling down at the other residents who pass in front of him as they wander through the flower gardens. “Gerri!” he says, waving happily when he sees me. “How’s my girl?” “I’m great, Granddad,” I say, leaning down to hug him. “How are you?” “Well, it’s hard to complain on a day like this,” he says. “Have a seat.” I pull a wicker chair up beside his bench and sit down. “What were you playing?” I ask. In response, his fingers begin to pick out a cheerful bluegrass melody that I recognize right away. After a few bars, he starts singing. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine You make me happy when times are gray… I love my granddad’s voice.
