His grandfather ended up passing away a few months later.
The funeral was beautiful.
There were many familiar faces. People who had known Albert for decades and whom Carl had now come to know during his short stay there. They shared old stories of him, some so funny that Carl couldn't help but laugh, despite himself.
They were able to find someone trustworthy to manage the farm. His father handled all of the arrangements, ensuring that if any of them ever wanted to return, the place would still be waiting.
Carl said a reluctant goodbye to the place that had been his home for just a short while, but had become his second haven.
The ducklings that had been bright yellow when he had first arrived had now grown big and white, some already waddling around with their own brood.
The potatoes they planted together were almost ready for harvest, their leaves already turning yellow.
Too bad Albert won't be alive to see them.
Carl wouldn't even be around to pick them.
