I had never seen my grandfather look as old as he did when he walked into the house that night. The lines in his face seemed to have been etched deeper and his shoes scrapped the floor as he walked. His clothes were covered in soot and filth and there was a rip in his left pant leg just below the knee. I don’t know why, but it was his shoes that really stood out for me. They looked like something a hobo might be wearing; not something a multi-millionaire would have on.
After Grandmother and Grandfather started to head upstairs so that he could get out of his dirty clothes and get cleaned up, Mom took me up to my room.