Grandparents were young too. There are a great variety of kinds of grandparents –the warm’s, the stark’s, the full-of-energy’s, the wrinkle and fragil’s, the wise’s, the dreamer’s, the sweet’s, the bitter’s…– but all of them seam to have, at least, one thing in common: the timelessness. No matter if they can have bad and good days, or if they can fall ill, no matter if they get older and older, because the temporariness referred here is not of material nature. Of course, they are flesh and bones, nevertheless they seam to have been there since ever, and, despite they certainly will die, their memories seam to will be immutable for ever. Maybe it is because the hurries of youth turn people blind, maybe it is because the eyes of old-age are tired of seeing the same hurries again and again thus they opt for waiting behind of the action the moment to be present. The fact is that, when people manage to stop the frantic vortex of the modern life, looking for silence and calm, the timelessness of the grandparents easily emerge to the surface, gaining a mystic gleam –and even the more screamy or the more bossy grandparent has a bit of that –. Maybe it is simply because each grandparent has within her or himself, buried in the fog of the countless years, the same hopes, loves, fears and desires than anyone else. All those things, treasured in their hearts, resound connecting the past, which they drink from, with the present and the future, in which they will be reborn in each live human being. Grandparents are timelessness because they were young once time. The youth remains live in their depths, as roots which feed the stem and the leaves and fruits even if the leaves and fruits cannot see the source of their live. Grandparents are timelessness because with their past youth feed the future.