"There are only so many things in a elderly persons, high care

facility that you can fuel conversation with," the boy thought,
looking around the small soapbox of a room. The Hector Salamanca
like figure lying in the bed was no help in sparking any conversation;
capable of saying only 'yes', 'no', 'thank you' and other one word
sentences. "I wonder if he remembers me?" the boy pondered
looking into the old man's eyes as he shook his hand.

"I'm at Uni now!"

"Studying to be an engineer…like his father!" his mother added.
"Yes." the old man replied.

There was a long awkward pause, where everyone in the room just
looked at the walls and the floor, and made that noise with their
tongue, followed by a sharp inhale and then exhale of air. It felt like
hours of silence.

At last, as if by some wonderful miracle, there was a tap on the

door.

Dinner.

Being wheeled into the room was a trolley holding at least three
more conversation starters - a sandwich, a beer and a banana. The
boy watched his uncle hand his grandfather one of the sandwiches
and then watched him take a bite.

"How is it?" his uncle asked.

"Rubbish." his grandfather replied while a small, cheeky smile

spread across the boy's uncle's face. Did his uncle enjoy watching
his father like this? Remembering maybe the fatherly upbringing he
was given? Having said that, he did buy his father a beer to have
each day - something the boy knew his grandfather loved; it was
both his favourite thing and his hubris.

"We better go pick the boys up from swimming!" his uncle

encouraged - a cue to leave. They filed out of the room one by one,
approaching the bed to shake the old man's hand. "Thank you, thank
you, thank you." the boy's grandfather repeated over and over as his
family said goodbye. The boy could see his mother was holding back
tears; he knew this was the last time she would see her father.
They walked through the corridors, past other residents, towards the
exit. "Hello, hello, hello." one elderly woman was saying again and
again, reminding the boy of the galah outside the pet resort back in
his home town.

It was strange when he thought about it, he had said goodbye for
the last time to his grandfather, a man he had never really known, a
man he knew only from stories. How was he to feel?

At the car, as his mother fumbled around her handbag for the keys,
his uncle pondered "Isn't it strange? We come into this world as
babies and leave it pretty much the same way! You get what I
mean?"

This was probably the most serious thing his uncle had ever said.