I have a good memory of my grandfather,Jack. He was sitting in his armchair in the front room. I sat next to him. We were reading aloud,our heads bent over the page in front of us,a finger marking the words;separated by seven decades,brought together by words. It's a common scene in British families;however,in our case,the usual order of things is reversed .Granddad had been blind since I was tiny,so I was reading to him.When reading aloud,people usually read something that's of interest to the listener. So I didn't read children's books;I read the sorts of things Granddad liked to hear about. Much of the vocabulary in Granddad's reading material was far beyond me. When I met unfamiliar words,I'd spell them out. Granddad would help me. It must have been painful for him to hear news;but he never hurried me along or complained. Our reading wasn't really about getting knowledge. It was a way for us to spend time together. My grandfather wasn't always blind. He had been a good carpenter .The first Christmas of my parents' marriage,he built my mother a bookcase,which now belongs to my son Jonah,providing a link between four generations. I was a fortunate child;I spent a lot of time with my grandfather,and he opened the world to me in a particular way. Reading was our way of building a relationship that has had a lasting effect on me. In the school holidays,I sometimes accompanied him on trips to the seaside with the local association for the blind. This might seem strange,but I felt that my personal value was realized because I could finally do something for Granddad. A decade later,I found a position in a nursing home,which reminded me of my early experiences;reading to senior citizens was a connection back to Granddad. More than simple conversation,reading aloud is a connection between two individuals and it can have a big emotional effect on elderly people. How did the author feel during the trips with Granddad?
Proud. Troubled. Curious. Embarrassed.