Delicious


It was time for me to leave. I was saying goodnight to him. He was lying on his back in his bed, not even looking at me. He seemed to be gazing out of his bedroom window. Was it my imagination or did he suddenly seem a bit distant, as if his mind was elsewhere? As I continued to observe him, he suddenly put his left forearm to his face, near to his nose and mouth. He paused there for a couple of seconds and then did the same with his right forearm. “I don’t smell anything,” he said as he turned and looked up at me.

“I don’t smell heaven.”

I smiled as I recalled the many times I’d said to my 3 1/2 year old grandson, “You smell delicious,” “You smell heavenly,” or, “You smell like heaven to me.” as I would hug and inhale him, trying to somehow absorb enough of him to sustain me until the next time I saw him.