Every holiday and family get-together he was there, sitting in Granny's chair, a seat forbidden to the rest of the family, silently watching everyone and everything. My aunt would bring a plate and set it on his lap, and he would eat with us kids instead of at the big table in the kitchen with the grown-ups. At first, when we were very young, he made us kids nervous. He seemed tiny and frail in that big old cushioned chair. He would sit there motionless and silent. The only movement he made were his clear blue eyes, watching every thing we did, every movement we made. Over time we became accustomed to our silent guest. He wouldn't answer when we spoke to him, so we stopped talking to him. But always he silently watched...