My diabetic grandpa’s fruit dealer

A freedom fighter had to fight his diabetes in his last days.

The family restricted access to fruits to prolong his life

While he was bedridden, he could see and smell the fruits in the storage.

Alas! he had no access to it.

He started a conversation with his grandson.

Grandpa asked, “how long will I live with my condition?”

All the women of the household asked him not to talk negatively.

He shushed them and went on his mission.

Grandpa led the conversation: May be 2 years?

How many months does eating a banana take off my life?

May be 6 months?

I could live miserably for 2 years or happily for 1.5 years.

It is not the destination; it is the journey.

After his wordsmithing, Grandpa recruited the grandson as his fruit dealer