I handed Grandfather a blank book.
"What is this?" he asked.
"This is yours," I said. "Yours to write in. You can do it now."
Grandfather opened it. I had written hisname-JOHN WITTING-there. He turned thepages and saw them all empty and white. Grandfather put a hand on his chest.
"Grandfather?"
I was scared. I thought he was sick.
Grandfather waved me away.
"It isn‘t pain," he said to me.
He closed his empty book and looked at me.
"It‘s love," he said. - P91