My mother often said to me, “Don’t sit on Grandpa’s lap.” I never understood why. One day I ignored him and sat down anyway. Grandpa smiled, walked up to my ear and whispered, “Can you come to sleep next to me tonight?

But over the past few months, my mother had started behaving strangely.

Every time I ran to Grandpa, she would immediately say,

“Lily, be careful.”

And if he tried to sit on his lap, he would react even more firmly.

“I told you not to sit on Grandpa’s lap.”

Every time I asked him why, his answer was always the same.

“Grandpa is no longer young.”

But there was something about that explanation that never convinced me.

Sometimes I noticed the worried way Mom looked at him. And every time Grandpa realized that she was watching him, she would just smile and change the subject.

That Sunday, our whole family was at Grandpa’s.

After lunch, Mom went to the kitchen.

I saw the grandfather sitting alone in his chair, I approached him and, without thinking, I went up to his lap.

“Lily!” I heard my mother screaming from the kitchen.

But it was too late. Grandpa put a hand on my shoulder, leaned towards me and whispered very short: