The end of my sophomore year was approaching.Mom called me at the dorm one evening during the last week of May.My summer break would be spent with grandma and grandpa, helping out around their farm.The arrangement made good sense to all the family.I wasn't fully convinced of that myself but guessed it was just one summer.Next year would be my little brother's turn. I arrived late that afternoon.Grandma had fixed more food than the three of us could possibly eat.She loved me entirely too much.The next morning, Grandpa fixed breakfast for the two of us. He told me Grandma had tired herself out yesterday and was going to rest in bed a little longer.I made a mental note to myself to not ask her to do things for me while I was there.I was there to help, not be a burden.               Weeks passed.I gradually settled into a routine of daily work with Grandpa.In the evenings I usually read or talked with Grandma.She never grew tired of hearing about college or anything I was involved in.She told me stories about her childhood, family and the early years after she and Grandpa had married.               The last Saturday in June, Grandpa suggested going fishing.We hadn't expected what we saw when we got to the pond that morning: One of the swans was dead.Grandpa had given the pair of swans to Grandma on their 50th anniversary."Why don't we see about buying another one," I suggested, hoping the situation could somehow be righted.Grandpa thought for a few moments before answering.               He finally said, "no...it's not that easy, Bruce.You see, swans mate for life." He raised his finger to point, holding the fishing pole in his other hand."There's nothing we can do for the one that's left.He has to work it out for himself." A few days later, we drove by the pond while doing our morning check on the cows.We found the other swan lying near the same spot we had found the first one.It, too, was dead.               The month of July started with me and Grandpa putting up a new stretch of fence.Then July 12 came.That was the day Grandma passed away.Grandma had died suddenly that morning of a stroke.By the afternoon, my parents were there.The old house was soon crowded with  s and Grandpa's friends.               The funeral was held the next day.Grandpa had insisted on having it as soon as possible.On the second day after the funeral, Grandpa announced at the breakfast table, "This is a working farm. We have a lot of things to do.The rest of you should get back to your own lives." Most of the family had already left, but this was Grandpa's way of telling the rest it was time for them to go home.My parents were the last to leave after lunch.               Grandpa was not a man who could outwardly express his grief around others, and we all worried about him.The rest of the summer flowed by.We stayed busy working.I thought there was something different about Grandpa but couldn't quite put my finger on it.               September was nearing, and part of me did not want to leave.I thought of skipping the fall semester and staying around a few more months.When I mentioned it, grandpa quickly told me that my place was back at college. The day finally came for me to pack my car and leave. I shock his hand and chanced a hug. As I drove down the driveway, I saw him in the rear view mirror.He waved to me and then walked to the pasture gate to start the morning livestock check.               Mom called me at school on a stormy October day to tell me Grandpa had died.A neighbor had stopped by that morning for coffee and found him in the kitchen.He died of a stroke, the same as Grandma.At that moment, I understood what he'd clumsily tried to explain to me about the swan on that morning we fished together by the pond. By "I couldn't put my fingers on it", the writer means that_.
I could do nothing to help him out of grief I was so busy that I couldn't give a hand to Grandpa I couldn't tell exactly what was different about my Grandpa I stayed busy working and couldn't keep Grandpa's company