Looking for Sunbeams.

The kettle whistled, just as the phone rang. Joanne responded, only to hear, "The only way I'm going anywhere is feet first via the morgue!" Oh dear, Handsome Grandpa Jack was on the phone again. Did he have the blues! He was sitting in his nursing home room, ringing his loving granddaughters in sequence. It was a lovely facility really, top of the range. It had great food, activities, staff and a supportive environment. It was still his forever home.

Joanne, his middle granddaughter, had a ready reply. "Never mind, when your number's up, and not before, Grandpa Jack." That was her philosophy. "Come on, quitting is not in your nature, or mine. I inherited that from you."

Grandpa said, "You're all right, Joanne. You'll get old too." Straight back at Grandpa Jack, Joanne was always known for having an answer. "I hope I do, the alternative is worse." Grandpa Handsome Jack laughed at that. "I can't believe how old and fat and grey I have become. I guess I'll have to keep looking for sunbeams."

Grandpa Jack lived a simple life in the slow lane. Even in his nursing home, he liked sitting with his morning cup of tea, reading his newspaper for the hatched, matched, and dearly departed. He would read of old cronies who had met their undertaker. He would phone his family members in turn, just to let them know some friend had passed over to the Promised Land.

Then it was time for morning tea. Grandpa Handsome Jack would amble off to the day room, on his walking stick, for senior esprit de corps. Some of the Merry Widows there liked Grandpa Jack. Two of them were competing for his ruby lips to slake their wrinkly bits. So they would give him all their scones if he would sit next to them. Grandpa Handsome Jack kept his wits about him, determined not to be their octogenarian boyfriend.

He sat down and ate every scone he could. He was always good on his food intake. It was an old family saying, he was raised by the Jesuits to eat Jesus off the Cross. But he did not want to upset the ladies concerned. He wanted to live his best, most nourished, Christian life on a daily basis.

Joanne heard all about her Grandpa's quest scones. Dodging the widows' torrid non-embrace, he wandered back to his room, to swear at the radio broadcast of live government debates. "Guess we voted for politicians," he told Joanne that evening. "You are right," she replied, always interested in politics, " we got politicians." "All ratbags!" Grandpa agreed, "It's a strange, strange world we are living in, Joanne."

Her world got stranger and stranger. Joanne phoned Grandpa Handsome Jack at noon the next day. She had planned to visit him that afternoon. But his phone, in those days before smart phones and answering machines with a message bank, went unanswered. Joanne queried with the nurse on call about Grandpa Jack, was he okay? The nurse did not have a clue where Joanne's Grandpa was at that moment in time.

"My silence is golden here," Joanne thought. Bemused, she sent a silent offering to the divine above for the well-being of Grandpa Handsome Jack. Maybe he was getting married. Anything was possible with him! Joanne was aiming to be a woman of God, not always easy, even then. She did not let geriatrics get her down.

Five pm rolled around again, there was the phone ringing. Good timing, the kettle was on the boil. Joanne was happy and relieved. It was Grandpa Jack, all present and correct. "No one knew where you were," she remarked. "I knew where I was, that is all that matters," her Grandpa said. "I told the manager that your Uncle Jerry was around the corner, ready to pick me up for lunch."

"But he is in India!" Joanne responded.

"I know that, you know that. No one needs to know that the manager let me through the front door. I went to the phone box, and called a taxi to take me to the large shopping center. I had two decent cups of coffee, and a beautiful lunch. I wanted a decent meal before I meet the undertaker. So that is what I had. Look for sunbeams!" Then he added, "Don't tell the others!"

"Too easy," Joanne said, "What will you think of next?"

"I'll think of something. Don't worry, I always know where I am."

"What about the manager and nurses?"

"I don't know why you waste your thoughts on that bunch of blips!" Enough said, so they both went on looking for sunbeams.

The years rolled by. Lucid to the end, eventually Grandpa Handsome Jack went home to his Promised Land, feet first via the morgue. His number had come up. In Joanne and her sisters, he had always believed. Their Grandpa Jack had been the tower in their family tapestry, staunch and true, with his own faith in himself.

Joanne had her own ups and downs in her life. She finally arrived at Grandpa Jack's age, where he had been all those year ago. She realized no one could change the past by complaining. Time and God took care of everything and everyone. It was best to stay positive, and keep looking for sunbeams. Even with her walking stick, she could accentuate her daily positives, dodging the nursing home and the undertaker, while living in a strange world. Some days, Joanne could waste her thoughts, dwelling on past grievances. They were only thoughts, futile, but fun. That is what fixations are. Joanne walked every day in faith.

Ah, the kettle whistled. There appeared before her vision, an image of Grandpa Handsome Grandpa Jack. At the end of each day, she would rest her head on her pillow. Like her sisters, she thought this ageing was a right blast. Really, nothing bad had happened. Who cared why negative Normans carried on? There was always gold star advice, from her good old Grandpa. "I don't know why you waste your thoughts on that bunch of blips!'

Too true, too true. Joanne went on looking for sunbeams, just like her Grandpa, that tower of faith and strength.