"old man"

my grandfather is getting old and i can see it in his face, the hard lines, the tired eyes, the permanent image of a hard lived life. yes, he's definitely getting old and i can hear it in his voice, the meek words and soft laughter that brings a weary smile to those hard lines and tired eyes that bore out of a hard lived life. my grandfather is getting old for i can feel it in his arms, that once held me tightly now barely hang on for a few seconds, hoping to feel power in my grip? i wonder, where did those hard lines came from? as each day passes he ages and i can sense it in his being, not too sure if he's coming or going, existing in these times, computers and gadgets, not too sure of the meaning, just being, aging. my grandfather is getting old and i can see it in his walk, itches on by, on his way to church, dressed all big and proud you would never guess those were his tired eyes, and his quiet laughter that you see in the back of the church would you preacher? yet he's there, nothing could keep his away, please note. my grandfather is skin and bones and i don't understand how such a strong spirited person could gradually just fade away, i don't like it, not one bit! why must my grandfather grow old? can't he just stay how he was, patriarchal, strong and proud, a man to admire and fear, a man of great virtue and wisdom, the man i remember. my heart sinks when i see my grandfather because every day i live with this fear that i'll wake up one morning and he is no longer there, that those hard lines would stay transfixed on his face leaving the last image of him with tired eyes and a glimpse at a hard lived life that too many forget. but still, my grandfather is getting old, and there's nothing i can do, powerless, i feel.