By Abby Schreiber
It’s not how I wanted to remember him - I remembered him as a listener, a laugher. But something compelled me to keep taking the photos. “This could be the last time, remember it,” the voice in my head would nudge. As time went on, though, my grandpa kept surviving. He’s break a hip, and we’d think, “This is it.” It, however, kept prolonging. And the photos kept adding up.