Reviving Edward

The extended family took my grandfather out to Bob Chinn's in Wheeling for his 91st birthday. He can't participate much in mealtime conversation on account of his deafness, but he does like the halibut.

Toward the end of the meal, Grandpa put his elbows up on the table and cradled his forehead in his hands. He sat like that for a long minute, and when he lifted his head, we could see that all the color had gone out of his face. He nodded his head when asked if he was feeling dizzy, then lowered it to rest in his hands once more.

Grandpa gradually became less responsive. He closed his eyes and leaned back against my father. Suddenly, he slumped as if the air had been let out of him. At the sight of this, my stomach knotted around the grouper I had just eaten.

We asked for the check and a paramedic. The check arrived first. As my mother signed the receipt, Grandpa's right eye opened a crack. He slowly raised his arm and pointed at my mom, and with all the breath he could muster, he said, "I'll pay for that!"

We told him the receipt was already signed, but he was insistent -- he wanted to pay. And the more he protested, the more animated he became. And his color began to return. By the time the paramedics arrived, he was able to stand on his own, and he was indignant that they were even called.

Grandpa was driven home and seems to be doing well. The bruised ego will take some time to heal.