He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

them. “Grandpa!” I gasped, dropping to my knees in front of him.

“It’s me. It’s Elena.”

His eyes flickered with recognition, then confusion. “Rose?”

His voice was dry, cracking. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

I held his hands, which had gone cold despite the stuffy warmth of the terminal. He looked around, bewildered. “Where did your father go?continue reading …