“Come in, come in”   I urged the withered  old man standing outside my front door.  Rain pelted against his fragile hunched frame as the icy wind cut through my skin.  The mysterious man gingerly stepped through the threshold, into a warm, welcoming calm foyer.  Removing his scuffed, soaked fedora, he looked down at me with those once sharp blue eyes.  His smile, reaching some deep corner in my heart, creased every corner of his face and lit those knowing eyes.  “I am your Grandfather” he whispered.  Shocked, I stared at this crippled figure in amazement and hope.  My grandfather I thought, but how could that be…?  My poor grandfather has been dead for twenty years…