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Dec 2015
I remember it like yesterday
We came together one last time
To not be there for Grandad Bill
Would surely be a crime

For three months now, he'd not been well
And the end was getting near
We would all be home for Christmas
Grandpa Bill's last one I fear

The tree was in the corner
Like it had been for so long
To see the corner empty
Well, boy, that would be wrong

Aunts and Uncles gathered
Cousins, twelve more than before
The whole house went so silent
When Grandpa Bill came through the door

He looked so frail, not who I knew
With two canes to help him walk
This was not the Grandpa of my past
I was afraid to hear him talk

His chair was by the fire
And he spun, and then sat down
In a voice, barely a whisper
He asked for his old dressing gown

"The cold is goes on through me"
"I don't want to catch a chill"
"This won't be my last Christmas"
"Or my names not Grandpa Bill"

He poked softly at the fire
Got a flame, an orange sail
Then his eyes, his eyes....they twinkled
And he told a Christmas tale

He spoke of being younger
Much younger than we were
And of how Christmas was so different
And of trees of spruce and fir

He spoke of sleigh rides in the mountains
Of making snow men in the yard
Of staying up to watch for Santa
You never did...it was too hard

His voice, it gained a power
It grew stronger as he spoke
I saw life come into Grandpa
As I ignored my *** and coke

Grandpa Bill was happy
This was his family after all
And at least for this short moment
We listened to his tales...so tall

We knew that what he said
Was filtered, and cleaned up
The truth, well....it came later
Once Grandpa Bill had drank a cup

After tales were told and argued
As to who said what to whom
We quickly brought out Christmas Dinner
And we filled the dining room

Grandpa Bill just sat there
A big smile on his face
He looked at all around him
Grandpa Bill was in his place

The jokes and stories lessened
As Christmas Dinner came and went
Then Grandpa Bill walked to the bedroom
An old man, now gray and bent

He said he'd have a lie down
But, not to worry about the noise
"My hearing's not the best no more"
"So, let the kids play with their toys"

Grandpa Bill's last Christmas
Ended with him in the bed
He passed while he was sleeping
After all of us were fed

I won't forget that Christmas
So many years have passed
For I still tell Grandpa's stories
And leave the blue ones...till the last

Grandpa Bill is not forgotten
His chair sits empty, as it should
And the tree....it's in the corner
Where Grandpa Bill said.."It looked good"
Roger Turner - Poet
Written by
Roger Turner - Poet
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