Precious and short moments

His physical appearance only scratched the surface of the mystery, adventure and tall tales that existed within his weathered mind;
the man's skin was coarse, tight and wrinkled; it resembled an old baseball glove that had sat in the sun and seen far too many days out on the ball diamond in the dust, wind and rain; with wisdom that stretched nearly a century, he sat the young child on his lap and began to tell him stories; the man's eyes twinkled in a way that said, "I've lived tales that most only read in fiction;" and his raspy voice paved a rocky road full of twists, turns and adventure like no other; the child sat, jaw on the floor and eyes peeled wider than a full moon as he listened, in perpetual awe of the autobiographical adventurous life story that was being painted in the word right in front of him; he was too young to fully realize the significance of what he was hearing, but later in his life he would fondly recall the precious and short moments that he shared with this man, his grandfather as he listened to grandiose tales of mischief, trouble-making and adolescent adventures in south western Saskatchewan.