Grandpa was not a man who could outwardly express his grief around others, and we all worried about him. There had been talk of his giving up the farm. My parents thought he was too old to live out there alone. He wouldn't hear of it, though. I was proud of the way the old man had stood his ground. The rest of the summer flowed by. We stayed busy working. I thought there was something different about Grandpa but couldn't quite put my finger on it. I started to wonder if he would be better off living with someone after all, but I knew he could not leave the farm.

外公不會在人前表現自己的悲痛，我們都為他擔憂。已經有人在談論他要放棄農場。我父母認為他年紀太大，不宜一個人單獨住在那兒，但他不會聽進去的。老人家如此堅持我倒為此感到驕傲。夏天剩下的日子像流水似地過去了。每天忙忙碌碌，我感到外公和過去有所不同了，卻又說不出一個所以然來。我開始在想是不是還是有人陪著外公一起住更好些，可是我也知道他離不開農場。

September was nearing, and part of me did not want to leave. I thought of skipping the fall semester and staying around a few more months. When I mentioned it, grandpa quickly told me that my place was back at college.

九月臨近了，我有點不想離開。我想秋季這學期不上學，在這兒再呆幾個月。我向外公提出這個想法時，外公馬上就說我應當返校讀書。

The day finally came for me to pack my car and leave. I shook his hand and chanced a hug. As I drove down the driveway, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He waved to me and then walked to the pasture gate to start the morning livestock check. That's how I like to remember him.

終于到了我離開的時候。我把行李裝上車，和他握手道別，還偶然擁抱了一下。車子從車道上開走時，我從后視鏡里看到他。他向我揮揮手，然后走向牧場門，開始一上午對牲口的巡查。這就是為何我老想著他。

Mom called me at school on a blustery October day to tell me Grandpa had died. A neighbor had stopped by that morning for coffee and found him in the kitchen. He died of a stroke, same as Grandma. At that moment, I understood what he'd clumsily tried to explain to me about the swan on that morning we fished together by the pond.

十月的一個刮大風的日子，媽媽打電話到學校里告訴我外公死了。那天早晨鄰居上他家喝咖啡時發現他在廚房里。和外婆一樣，他也是患中風死的。我這才明白，我和他在池塘釣魚的那天早晨，為何他解釋天鵝之死時顯得那么艱難。