My grandfather was nothing short of charismatic. A charisma that oozed from every twinkle of his eyes, every smile and secret sidelong wink. In my one and only meeting with him, he seemed to smolder and radiate. His smile was the widest I had ever seen and when he bequeathed to me a little toy cow, I had shuddered, I was seduced. Oh, what pleasure. What ecstasy.
My grandfather had, in fact, given so much ecstasy to so many women over the years that it wasn’t until his funeral that all of his children, handfuls of children, really knew how far reaching my grandfather’s love had been. They met there at his funeral.