I knew my great grandfather wasn’t happy
Wearing  khaki overalls with a dark brown flat cap
And having to give up all his pens because I kept losing them
He was a man with a straight face
Who I think wore dentures and glasses older than himself
He sat on the couch closest to the fire place
Where his navy picture stood front and center
He never sat next to his wife or laughed as they watched stories together
Maybe it was just her that enjoyed watching stories
Every day he’d walk in and out of the house
Sometimes he’d have a shovel in his hand
And sometimes it's covered with dirt
I never saw exactly any progress in the yard
But something was happening slowly

I never had the chance to talk to him
And ask him ‘What were you always working on’
Maybe it was because I was so young
By the time I hit an age where I could form full sentences
And think of that question exactly
I wasn't able to because I'd only seen him once after I left the house
And I was too busy looking into his eyes
Where I could tell that he no longer remembered me
I remember telling him my name
Thinking he would remember me
He could remember me
But he didn't and that's ok
Because the funny thing is that I never knew his name
I grew up with a Papa and that was the only name I knew
Something I came up with
Now what laid  in his hospital bed was wrinkled memories
That once covered the cheeks of a broken old man

My mother said ‘I'm taking Teen to the hospital’
Why I responded and she told me PaPa’s in the hospital
I knew it was because it was time he’d rest
But the day that he did
I pretended that I didn't care because of one mistake
That he made and I didn't say goodbye
Some of his family never did either
I didn't feel so bad though
Until I realized I wasn't crying outside of my thoughts
I cried inside because I never knew his name
And never forgave him
And never dealt with his death

*In Memory of Papa