Buried Memory

It's been almost fifteen years since my grandfather passed beyond the veil. I am reminded of this because I was digging. In my spare time, I have become an amateur archaeologist, sifting through the strata of the dig that is my parental digs.

In a stratum near the bottom of the area south of the big desk, I found a single sheet, preserved by some chemical accident. It was from my best friend from the old days. On that sheet, preserving a single email from a long-lost server, was his tribute to my grandfather. In it, he mentioned the first time he met my grandfather, and how the man had summed him up quickly and accurately but kindly.

But the funny thing was the connection between my best friend and my grandfather; it was summed up in terms of the school that all three of us called our alma mater. He said that it was that honour which linked us together, the older man and the boys. And he never forgot that.