[ WP ] Your young , dying body is frozen into suspended animation . 30 years later , you 're cured . What is life like now that your son is older and more mature than you ?

`` It'll be okay dad... it'll be okay...'' 
 
 Those were the last words I heard before I drifted away, fading into the vastness of nothingness. Thirty years later, I awoke from my cold slumber to a world I could no longer recognize. And in this new, harsh world, fear was to be my only friend. In time, I learned, through rehabilitation, a little of the new society I was to enter into. I was treated to new music, new technology, new clothing, and I soon realized that no longer was this world the simple and naive place I once new. It was a haven of innovation and dedication to societal advancement. At least, that was the idea the Company wanted to us to see. But my son, who became an engineer, and was now in his forties, filled me in all the things the Company did n't. 
 
 He told me of all the horrible music that now existed and of all the atrocities committed in my absence. The attacks, the wars, the unspeakable terror that plagued the east. I was shocked, appalled even. What had I really awoken to? And why did the Company lie to me? All questions to answers I knew I'd never get, I decided to focus my attention on my son, who a was now married with two little girls. 
 
 His wife, Danielle, was a psychiatrist. She volunteered her help if I ever needed it, which I replied to with many thanks. As far as I could tell, she made my son happy, and that was more than I could have ever asked for. I remember the first time I met my grandchildren. Beautiful and intelligent as Kimberly and Rose were, I admired their innocence the most, which they wore like a kind of mask, hopefully never to be taken off. At 12 and 10, respectively, they were very inquisitive. They asked me things like, `` What was it like in there?'' and `` Did you dream?''. 
 
 `` Oh, of course I dreamed'' I began, `` I dreamed I was a superhero, flying through the skies looking for people to save!'' 
 
 But really, I could n't remember. It was all just blank. 
 
 Aside from the occasional `` Is this your son?'' question, life with my son was n't too much different. I was still his father, and he was still my son. We mostly concentrated getting back all that lost time, but when he was at work, I spent time with my grand-daughters, telling them stories of what my time was like. 
 
 

