Forgotten: Stroke

“Son, call me if Grandpa has problems,” Ruth told Ned, her five-year old son, as she left for work. Normally, her father was fine with Ned helping him. 

“Young man, I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know,” John, his grandfather said, as Ned watched him trying to tie his shoelaces.

“He’s grumpy this morning,” thought Ned. “I know, Grandpa, but if you tie your shoelaces like that, you won’t be able to walk. Let me help you.” He knelt down, untied his grandfather’s shoelaces and re-tied them properly.

“I taught you how to tie yours,” said John, sternly.

Ned knew this was not one of Grandpa’s better days. “Grandpa,” said Ned, when he saw his grandfather take a package of chicken noodle soup mix down from the shelf. “May we have cereal for breakfast?”

John put the soup mix back. “The cereal bowls have disappeared again,” said John. He was searching for them in the spoon drawer.

“I found them,” replied Ned, smiling, as he took them out of the cupboard. “Bring two spoons.”

John dug in the freezer to find milk for their cereal.  

“It’s already on the table, Grandpa. Bring some berries.”

Ned knew there was something wrong.

“I’m tired,” John said. He sat down, awkwardly. His hands shook, as he began to slump forward.  

“I’ll feed you,” Ned offered. His grandfather shoved him away. Everything on the table flew across the room.

“Leave me alone,” John said, as he slipped off the chair and fell to the floor. 

“911, I need someone to help my Grandpa!” Ned had not forgotten how to call  911 for help.

“Mommy, I can’t wake Grandpa up,” Ned told his mother on the phone, several moments later. “He fell on the floor. I already called 911.”

“Good work, son,” a paramedic told him when they arrived. “We got here just in time. Your Grandpa will be fine.” 

“I’ve forgotten more than you’ll ever know,” John told Ned again, as he left in the ambulance.

“I know, Grandpa,” said Ned tearfully, as his mother hugged him tightly.