He was walking with me with his arm around my shoulders, and every now and then he stirred, as if to get my attention. "You have to take care of yourself," he said. "Walking is good for you," he continued, for I was in a state of recovery following a recent surgery. Sometimes he held my hand, that day at my grandson's graduation. He bought me breakfast, and later on that day, he bought me a glass of wine. He was that kind of guy, fine by definition.