Mom is drunk, talking ****
Grandma is drunk, laughing at her pain
Dad is drunk, yelling
Aunty is sobbing
Brother locked himself in a room
Cousin won't stop crying
Uncle passed out
I clean up all of their broken pieces with no one left to clean up me

The young boy wrote his Christmas Cards
Wrote his name as neatly as he knew
He put the ones aside to take to school
And in his bedroom he hid two

These cards were special for the boy
One was for his Uncle, one was for his dad
The cards just had to reach them
And here's the plan he had..

He knew that mail to Santa Claus
Made it up to the North Pole
But, he wasn't sure just how his card
Would reach his fathers soul

You see, the boys dad and his Uncle
were taken by an IED
They'd both been gone two years now
Since the  boy was only three

He visited the cenotaph
In the park, most every day
He'd stop and he'd salute it
And then he'd go and play

It was a gentle hi to both of them
For he knew that at this place
He could feel them staring down on him
Though he'd forgotten his dad's face

He took the cards down to the park
And he left them by a wreath
Left over from November
He laid his two cards underneath

A man was walking past the boy
And he saw the boy salute
But, he also saw the Christmas cards
And he thought the whole thing cute

He waited for the boy to leave
And he opened one to read
It said  "Merry Christmas" , "Thank You"
"I miss you, yes indeed"

The man went to the nearest school
to ask about the lad
To find out if this one young boy
Was a student that they had

A teacher overheard his tale
And called the man in for a talk
At the end she sat there crying
She had to go out for a walk

She went to find his teacher
Told the tale of this young man
Then between them they sat down and
They both devised a plan

The next day when the class began
Christmas Cards they would write
Each one was for a soldier
And to them this just seemed right

They would set up a class field trip
To see the vets up on the hill
In the special Veterans Hospital
to the kids, this was a thrill

The hospital was telephoned
And the vets were set to meet
Miss Johnson and Miss Watson's class
To get their Christmas treat

The kids were dressed in sunday best
Like they were a month ago
But, this time it was different
This time there would be snow

Each card said "Merry Christmas"
All said thank you, some were sad
To think this project started with
A card left for a dad

After all was done and dusted
The kids continued on
They went down to the cenotaph
To give more cards to those now gone

The story made it through the school
And each day another class
Wrote Christmas cards to soldiers
And they delivered them en-masse

By the action of a little boy
who wasn't locked to a computer
He started a tradition
this young boy, the saluter.

Sometimes in the summer and maybe in the spring,
I'd call to see how you are but you'd never answer.
June was your favourite month
and the 25 leaves that fell off your favourite tree.
But you weren't around to see
them so you pictured them in your head
and I pictured you too and I'd picture the times we
spent together because they
were the best times but now
that you're dead I picture you
more often even years down the line when your body is
gone but your legacy lives on.

Today was the day
after the big news.
Two days after what
once could have been
a harmless phone call.
Two days ago,
however many years ago,
a late night phone call
stopped the world from turning.
My world screeched to a halt
two days ago
but there was hope.
Hope that the phone call was wrong
that he would come back to us.
Hope that he would have changed,
changed his mind and outlook.
But yesterday,
however many years ago,
all hopes shriveled.
A follow-up call
that he would never come back.
That I would never see him
hug him
or hear him again.
Today is the day,
however many years ago,
the reality
of losing my uncle
would begin to set in.
When I would begin to fear
phone calls after nine.
When I would curl
into a scrunched ball
trying not to scream out.
When I would never
be able to look back
without at least some remorse.

Today is the day,
in the here and now,
that I still cry for him.

I did a little research work
And you know I'm glad to say
I found out about my history
On ancestry.ca
I typed my name and there it was
A family tree of sorts
With leaves appearing eveywhere
My family and their warts
There were places on the listing
That I had never been
And the names of the all the people
Well, most....I'd never seen
My grandad married seven times
My nanny married four
My mum was not my mother
And my dad...was out the door
The leaves kept showing up there
Beside each and every name
I sat there for eight hours
I was really glad I came
England, Scotland, Middle East
Nevada and Wales Too!
It seemed that all my family
Moved when the rent was due
I had cousins in Zimbabwe
I had cousins in Peru
They were scattered all through Italy
There were some in China too.
I learned things that I never knew
Tales of family and their kids
I  learned of all their countries
And of all the things they did
Four hundred names in all I saw
And each name had a leaf
I didn't know we were that big
It was truly beyond belief
The pictures too were something else
People, places now long gone
There were photos too of Mexico
And my dear old Uncle Juan
Tomorrow, though I  will sit down
And I'll do this all again
But this time I will make **** sure
That I don't forget the "n".

We thought he'd never see sunrise,
Now sunrise is all he sees.
Up in heaven with our other passed loved ones,
He's smiling cheek to cheek.

With the angels singing hymns,
And he glancing down,
I'm sure he wants to say:
*"It's alright, I'm okay now."

Everyone says
That trust
Trust
Is a hard thing to earn.

But really
When you see someone for the first time
Your mind
Tells you whether
Or not
You trust them.

Trusting someone is easy.
Knowing someone is hard.

When I met you,
My dearest uncle
uncle
I knew
Right away
That you were
The greatest
Man
I
Had
Ever met.

I am glad I met you.
Blessings to you, my writing confidante.
When I finally
Compile
All of these thoughts
Into a book,
The book will say
Three pages in
"To uncle Percy
"Thank you for believing in me."

When you went to sleep today,
I counted all the steps
That sat between you and me,
Like miles and miles of roads,
So many twists and turns;
The path was lost without a trace.

Is it strange to think
That we judge our love
By distance to our hearts?
Or do we choose to use
The ground between us
To fill that empty space?

So explain these tears
That fall together,
Sliding down my cheek
To join my other fears,
Of romance and careers,
As we drive this finite race.