I sat on grandpa’s knee as I watched the nice man put his photo high on the wall. He looked strange in the photo, like he was trying to smile, but he’d forgotten how.

“Why doesn’t it show your wheelchair?” I asked curiously, leaping off of my grandpa’s knee to get a closer look at the photo. The man who had come to the house to put grandpa’s photo up smiled down at me from his ladder.

“They wanted to make me look completely healthy.” My grandpa spoke in a gruff voice, a hint of humor in his voice as he watched me walk around.

“But the wheelchair isn’t bad.” I said with certainty.

“No. It isn’t. But some people think I look nicer without it.” Grandpa said, a tired look flashing over his face.

“That’s a weird thing to think.” I responded, looking at him with confusion.

A real smile crossed grandpa’s face, lighting him up in a way that couldn’t be shown in the photo placed on the wall. “It is weird.”

We both watched as the man walked down from his ladder and quietly exited the room. I wait quietly, knowing that if I stood still for long enough, grandpa will let me play with my friends.

I immediately moved to leave once I couldn’t stand it anymore. At the doorway leading to the next room I glanced back at grandpa, making sure I could leave.

He wasn’t watching me.

Instead, all of his focus was on his photo.

He looked sad.

I didn’t like that he looked that way, so I stomped back into the room and sat in front of him. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow.

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I turned my attention to the ground, unsure what to say now that I’d walked back into the room.

After a moment of terrifying silence, I spoke the first question that came to mind, scared that I might get into trouble if I didn’t break the silence soon. “Why did papa make me come over here to watch the photo be put onto the wall?”

“I was wondering why you’d come here for such a small event. I should have known he put you up to it.” Grandpa paused in thought.

I didn’t speak up, knowing better than to interrupt grandpa’s thoughts.

“I did something stupid.” Grandpa said finally.

I looked up at him confused.

He chuckled at my expression, turning his attention back to the photo. “I learned that some really bad men were going to do something terrible, and I tried to stop them with the help of a couple of friends.” He stopped, his gaze caught on the photo yet again.

“Did you win?” I couldn’t stop myself from speaking up when I realized that he wasn’t going to continue.

“No,” Grandpa said quietly, his gaze unmoving. “But we stopped them. Your father thinks I’m a hero for doing it.”

“Aren’t you a hero?” I asked, making grandpa’s attention turn back to me. “You stopped the bad guys after all.”

“Three good people died. But I suppose I can’t expect you to understand what that means.” He responded, his expression hard.

“I understand” I said, angry at him for thinking I wouldn’t. “You did what you had to, so that you could stop the bad guys. I’m not a baby! I know that people die sometimes. What matters is that you stopped the bad guys. Plus, papa says that you’re a hero, and he’s right.”

Grandpa sighed, kissing my forehead. “Your papa is often right isn’t he. Even if I am a hero, that doesn’t make those deaths ok. I still have to live with them.”

I frowned, unhappy with leaving at that. But I couldn’t think of an argument against him. I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped when I heard mom calling my name. “You’re my hero Grandpa. I love you.”

“Love you too. Now hurry on to your momma. I’m sure that whatever she needs you for, it’s important.”

I hurried to the door, taking one last glance into the room. Grandpa sat in his wheelchair, still staring at the photo on the wall.

This time, there was a whisper of a smile on his face.