5:30 AM a strange voice rumbles through the silent house something about the American Revolution ("founded upon this dictum" - must be George Grant) now here - long skinny spoon stirring raisin oatmeal always with raisins in the tiny metal saucepan - now there - squeezing down the narrow hall edged with a bookshelf peering into the mirror tying a red-striped tie. 5:30 PM his own voice over the phone "do you want a well-rounded dinner?" door crashes into door Little Caesar boxes five high "Shall we pray?" we all know gracious heavenly Father comes next. 7 PM the rocking chair reclines wide left hand handles a wide book white socked toes rub together wire-framed blue eyes blink slowly white crowned head nods right hand, pulling down the button-up shirt, revealing the few gray hairs, rests between shirt and chest.