TENDER

The small hospital room was filled with a sterile light, softened only by the vase of daisies on the bedside table. Jordan sat quietly beside his grandfather, holding his frail hand. The old man, once a towering figure in Jordan’s childhood, now seemed impossibly small beneath the layers of blankets. On Jordan’s wrist, his cufflinks—a whimsical pair shaped like bananas—caught the light.

His grandfather stirred, eyes fluttering open. "Still wearing those silly things?" he rasped, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

"You gave them to me, remember?" Jordan replied, his voice light. "Said they’d remind me not to take life so seriously."

The old man chuckled weakly. "You always had the softest heart in the family. Don’t lose that, no matter how hard the world gets." Jordan felt the weight of the moment but smiled, brushing away the moisture in his eyes. The banana cufflinks weren’t just a joke; they were a promise to stay tender, to care, even when it hurt.

When the nurse came in with updates, Jordan stayed—holding that hand, rooted in love.