After a long time, the memories fade. Man forgets. It recalls only some sections of life, sounds, smells or feelings. There's not much I remember, but I may miss my grandfather more than ever. I can't know what it would be like if
he was here now, but I can at least remember what it was like before.
The swing is one of the few memories I have of my grandfather and above all
it is my strongest memory. He made it for me when I was born, and he has cared for her ever since. After his death, the swing began to decay and creak. Until I grew up and stopped swinging completely on the swing.
We moved out later, so the swing is just a memory
to a beautiful childhood and a beloved grandfather.
