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EPILOGUE:

When wisdom fills the old calabash,

It overflows and seeps in

The sun dries it to be stronger

That way it lasts with experience

So was the calabash of Atanga’s Granpa

On his very dying bed

He called Atanga to his bed

And had his last stream flow to him

GRANDPA:

My dear Atanga,

Please in the name all great Atangas

This is my last advice to you

If you wish to take a wife

Never choose either of these:

The woman with light skin

The woman with dark skin

The woman who is short

And the woman who is tall


ATANGA:
Ei! Grandpa!

Then tell me not to marry

Who then do you want me to marry?

Not the fair

Nor the dark

Not the short

Nor the tall?


GRANDPA:

Listen my boy

To words of old

The light skinned woman

Is the fantasy of all

If you choose her

None will help you prosper

Every man wants you to fail

So they can quickly take your place

So never dream of the fair woman

No matter how much you crave for her


ATANGA:

Oh! I see

I think I do understand

Grandpa what about the rest?


GRANDPA:

Never go in for dark skinned woman

She is the one that all your people loathe

She is the one whose people hate you

The only people interested are you and her

When disaster strikes, none will hear

So never go in for the dark skinned woman


ATANGA:

Oh! I see

Now I know

It is not the colour

Nor the character

A woman like that

Would do me harm

Now let us go on

Explain the rest


GRANDPA:

Never go in for the short woman

A short woman is the neighbour’s daughter

Her house is so close to your house

You can never have a moment of peace

Whatever you do

Her people poke their noses

You can never have your lives to live


ATANGA:
Grandpa is wise

So what about the last?


GRANPA:

The tall woman

Is the woman who comes from afar

Her home-town is far

So you can’t have peace

Any time there is trouble in her home

You need to pay

To get your people to go with you

Amidst the feeding

And transportation

How can you proper?


ATANGA:

Granpa is wise

Grandpa has lived

Who would have thought

Of these wise sayings

To an infant where thoughts are concerned?

Thank you Grandpa

So which type of woman

Must I marry?

Grandpa?

Grandpa?

I am asking you a question!

Grandpa!!!!

Grandpa please answer!!!!


MMA:

Grandpa is gone

To the land of beyond

Where sorrow is nil

And thinking is unreal

Just be glad you sipped from his calabash

Of wisdom before he left

PROLOGUE:

And that ended

Grandpa’s advice

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
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"
Lawrence Hall Mar 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                              Grandpa and the Kid

Grandpa gives his boy a toy truck
Or better yet a clanking army tank
Or maybe a plastic shovel and pail
Or a real Roy Rogers cowboy hat

And the little boy’s hovering mother clucks:
“Now what do you say to Grandpa? Tell me!
Say to Grandpa “Thank you.” We say “Thank you!”
No, don’t just run away; say “Thank you!”

[Extended Form for Certain Feasts and Seasons:

“Now what do you say to Grandpa? Tell me! Say to Grandpa “Thank you.” We say “Thank you!” No, don’t just run away; say “Thank you!” “Now what do you say to Grandpa? Tell me! Say to Grandpa “Thank you.” We say “Thank you!” No, don’t just run away; say “Thank you!” “Now what do you say to Grandpa? Tell me! Say to Grandpa “Thank you.” We say “Thank you!” No, don’t just run away; say “Thank you!” “Now what do you say to Grandpa? Tell me! Say to Grandpa “Thank you.” We say “Thank you!” No, don’t just run away; say “Thank you!” Amen.]

And Grandpa smiles and lights his favorite pipe
(His daughter rolls her disapproving eyes)
She sees tonight’s bath in the sand and grass
But Grandpa sees beyond this time and place

His boy builds a road, a fort, a castle, a corral
And Grandpa thanks God for his little pal
A poem is itself.
Jade Louise Sep 2015
I remember Grandpa.
Grandpa was the kind of man,
That could tell you one story,
Or ask you one question
And all of a sudden
Everything you ever knew,
Or thought you knew would change

So many times with Grandpa,
From the age two and upwards,
He took me under his wing—much to my mother’s disapproval.
Grandparents aren’t supposed,
To be biased,
Or pick favorites,
But my Grandpa succeeded in getting away with both in the end.

Every summer,
I would spend the long stretch of eight weeks with him
And look back
Wondering where all the time had gone.
Although he never said it,
I always knew he was pleased to see me.
Whenever we pulled up to his ranch,
My sisters would slowly slump down on either side of me,
Slinking away
Until their heads were no longer visible through the car window.
They would sit there.
Pushing back their cuticles
And narrowing their lips into a line so thin
That my mom claimed could only be achieved with practice.
I would have to clumsily climb over my sisters,
Who always took some persuading,
To get out the car,
And then I would squint through the sun’s stretching rays
Until I spotted Grandpa,
Sitting there on the porch
Listening to the radio
With his little dog, Charlie, by his feet.
“Charlie”, I would call.
But Charlie never budged.
Charlie’s loyalties were very clear.
They were to Grandpa
And only Grandpa.

I learned that with Grandpa
You would find answers to the questions
That you didn’t even think to ask.  
Like the time he prodded me with his stick
And told me to stand still
And I stood there, confused.
Grandpa, I AM standing still.
And he chuckled and told me I was still moving
And that no matter
How hard I tried to stand still,
I would still be moving.
It wasn’t until fourth grade,
That his point was proven,
I was moving.
According to my fourth grade science teacher,
The Earth was rotating, spinning
And we were all moving,
At a rate of one thousand miles per hour
Whether we liked it or not.
Apparently just because everything looked still and motionless
Didn’t necessarily mean that it was.

Grandpa had lived and fought through two world wars,
Spent three decades keeping history alive as a teacher
And even outlived his first wife
But he didn’t walk around wounded like you’d expect.
I always felt kind of honored
That I was the one that got so much time with him.

Every where we went,
His golden dog
Was always two steps ahead of us,
Pacing along in a little green jacket.
Grandpa would take me to museums,
Exhibits
And even art galleries,
Despite my initial lack of interest in everything abstract.
I detested art,
Especially abstract art.
It always seemed like an excuse
For lack of skill,
In my opinion.
It was the name given to the paintings
That didn’t deserve any other name.
I never really thought it was fair
That one person could spend hours
Perfecting a painting,
Making it look like something real,
And another person could take five seconds
Splattering some paint across a canvas,
Making it look entirely unreal
And that somehow
They would both end up
Earning the title of “art”.
The latter,
Earning the special title of
“Abstract art”



However, after a visit with Grandpa,
My thoughts on “abstract art”
Became somewhat enlightened.
We visited a specific section of the gallery,
Me reluctantly dragging my feet after him,
And his obedient little dog towards the
“Modern Art” section,
His hands slowly traced over,
The little bumps,
Etched on the information display.

“Before you say anything”,
He told me.
“Just Look”

I stood there,
Staring at the thing.
Look at what?
I thought,
There is nothing to look at.

“Just wait,
Give it a chance”,
He said,
Almost
As if
He’d read my thoughts.

I closed my eyes,
Then quickly opened them.
I waited,
Taking in the chaos of the colors,
The mismatched design,
That made no sense.

Then it popped.
It was slow at first,
Like the colors were taking their time to shift into sense,
But then some lines began to fade
And others became bolder,
And all of a sudden,
Staring right at me,
Was the outline of a very distinctive face.
No one was looking at this painting.
It was one of those paintings,
That everyone politely glanced over,
Feigning hasty appreciation of,
But not actually stopping to look at.
At a first glance,
It was ugly on the eyes,
But if you spent some time on it,
Something better emerged.


It wasn’t,
Until I was ten,
That I finally figured it out –
Grandpa was blind.

I had been angry at first,
Feeling somehow mislead,
As if he had claimed,
To be someone,
He wasn’t.
How had I not noticed?
That
No one ever petted Grandpa’s dog,
That he had never quite looked me directly in the eye,
That his dog was allowed even in art galleries
And that he never drove us anywhere,
We always walked.

Initially,
I had felt small and betrayed ,
For not picking up on such a flaw,
But it was my mother who helped me,
To understand in the end.

My two older sisters,
Had known from a young age,
She said
And they saw him,
As blind,
And despite their warm hearts
And good intentions,
Had never been quite able to see past it.
My mother told me,
It was I
Who saw my grandfather
For the man he was,
Not my sisters.
I realized my anger,
Had all been in vain.
I had not noticed he was blind,
Because in a sense,
He was no more blind,
Than the rest of us.


Sometimes,
I even wonder
If seeing with eyes
Sometimes blinds us,
And limits our vision
Only to the appearance of things,
Only a scratch on the surface,
A quick call of judgment
And that maybe seeing without eyes
Is really what brought Grandpa,
So much closer to reality.

~ JL
archwolf-angel Aug 2016
Monster
Trianna POV
It took me time to accept what I was being pushed into. Ever since I was young, my mother and father told me that one day, I might grow to hate myself. I know, what parents tell that to their child right? But they saw no point in lying to me. It was going to happen. I was going to hate myself.

I am half-vampire.

Not because of my mother, not because of my father. It was my paternal grandfather.

It was a miracle my father got none of the vampire symptoms. It was the best miracle. My grandparents were one of those unbelievably fated couples in the world. A vampire and a human fell in love and got married and had my dad. They were prepared to have to deal with a vampire child, but, miraculously, it did not happen. My father came out normal, as normal as any human could ever be. It was not surprising; he had more of my grandmother’s genes. Eventually, my father met my mother, fell in love and got married. I came along. That’s how the equation works right?

They had nothing to worry, for they were both human. However, something was not right. When I was 3, my eye color changed. The color was nothing like my parents’. Their eyes were a nice shade of hazel and dark brown. Mine, was green, dark, forest green. As a kid, my treats weren’t sweets. They were blood, small droplets of blood from my parents. But by the time I was 7, my parents and grandparents helped me grow an addiction to lollipops, making me turn to them whenever I had a craving attack. For blood that is. But craving attacks were rare, very rare. I was only a half-vampire anyway.

As the days passed, I grew into a teenager, my parents and grandparents aged, except my grandfather. My grandmother long got used to the fact that my grandfather would not be able to age with her. After a while, I found it weird that my father was starting to look older than my grandfather. Things all went well, until the night before I turned 18.

It was taboo.

All a taboo.

I really hated myself now.

No one saw it coming. So we didn’t make precautions.

I killed them. I killed my parents. I didn’t even know what happened. I couldn’t even remember. I only remembered that I was enjoying a movie on television with my parents alone at home as my grandparents were out for a friends’ gathering dinner or something. And the next thing I remembered were my parents, lying in their own pool of blood, not breathing. My hands and face, stained with blood. My grandfather tried to stop me but feeding me his blood, but it was too late. It was all too late. I held onto my grandfather’s bitten arm and lay there, just staring at my parents. The clock struck midnight and everything turned black.

I woke up the next morning in my own bed, an urge to puke filled my guts as I rushed to the toilet to throw up. Nothing came out, just regurgitation. I looked up in the mirror, and blinked. I blinked again, harder this time, making sure I was not hallucinating. My eyes were, green, not dark green, but a lighter shade. I pulled the side of my mouth to reveal my canine teeth. They were sharper than before. In a state of shock and panic, I ran down the stairs, where I knew where my family would be. The moment I reached the first floor, I saw my grandparents outside, in the backyard.

I hesitated to move. Someone tell me the nightmare I had was not real.
“G-Grandpa?” I murmured. My grandfather turned, making my grandmother do the same. My grandmother had a tear-streaked face and a handkerchief in her hands. My grandfather looked the worse ever since I knew him. I swallowed hard before walking closer to them, and I noticed two coffins being laid on the ground.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I realized who those two being laid there were.

“Grandpa… Tell me this isn’t real…” I struggled to believe what was happening in front of me. My grandfather held onto me before I could collapse.

“Trianna, please don’t be like this…” he pleaded.

I knelt in front of my parents’ tombs and bid them a last farewell before they were being cremated. The fire was burning away so many memories. I almost wanted to walk into it, almost.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered under my breath and said a deep prayer. I lifted myself up from the ground and dried my tears. Walking to my grandparents, I gave them both a tight hug before my grandfather could go on another trail of apologies about how it was his fault I am what I am now. Worse, I am not a pure. And that is making things so hard for us to decipher. It was something none of us wanted. However, I had to blame myself. And I blamed myself, a lot. But I never mentioned anything about my parents ever since my 18th birthday. I wanted to escape.

For one year, we continued to stay at that same house. And every day without fail, I would walk to the backyard where my parents were cremated and kiss the ground, apologize then do whatever I had to do for the day. I stayed away from school which my grandparents obliged. I doubt anyone is ready for me to have a sudden craving attack again and start ******* the blood out of my classmates since my cravings were stronger now. I used to only have to **** on lollipops whenever I see blood. But now, I had to have a lollipop in my mouth 24/7, considering the fact that we are in fact staying amongst humans, and most probably have to for the rest of my life, and I start wondering how long my life would be.

To start things anew, my grandparents decided we needed to shift to a new state. If we continued to stay in that place, as they assumed, would be bringing me way too much pain. I had no opinions; I just needed to follow them wherever they wanted to go. However, I did mention there was not much need to actually move, I was over the whole blaming myself about my parents’ death thing… I think.

We settled down in a small town called Kingslet based in the United States, where Grandpa once lived with his family. I heard that that town was secluded, but definitely still populated with humans, moreover, rich humans. And probably some vampires.

We moved into a cottage that my grandfather bought over from an old friend. And when I said old friend, I meant like, a really really really old vampire friend of his who happened to want to move away to another town with his family. My grandfather drove a van that he had rented from near the place where our private plane landed to the location where we were destined to live. Upon arriving, my jaw dropped. That isn’t a cottage, more like a mansion, for goodness sake. Alighting from the van, I took one breath and knew it was the signal for me to be ******* on lollipops again. I took one out from my backpack and opened it before popping it into my mouth.

“The smell getting to you already? That’s fast.” My grandfather, who was obviously already immune to the smell of blood, chuckled.

“Shut up.” I mock-glared my grandfather and smiled as I helped with moving the luggage into the house. Being half-vampire, for the moment, was not half bad. I get extra super strength, a cliché vampire gift. I did my own research of my own kind. We get super human strength, sense of smell increases and super human speed. But I figured maybe because I was only half-bred, I wasn’t sensitive to the sun, nor to garlics, or crosses. I consider myself lucky.

Entering the cottage, I placed the luggage on the floor before taking a look around the place. The place was really not bad. It was huge, comfortable and very cozy. My grandmother would definitely love it here. Well, she would be the only one hanging around the house 24/7. I don’t really want my 75 year old human grandmother wandering just anywhere she wants alone. High chances are that she was going to get hurt or something. But touch wood. And true enough, my grandmother was already taking her place on one of the sofas furnished in the living room by the fireplace, smiling at my grandfather.

“It’s wonderful here, Xavier dear.” She complimented.

Both grandfather and I smiled at her then at each other.

“Glad that you like it here, Katrina darling.” He said to my grandmother, making me quiver at their sweetness, but it was not like I was not used to it. “Come on Tri, let’s start moving the things.” He turned to me and suggested. I nodded with a smile. As we were at moving, I was told my room is on the second floor, in which I get to choose between three bedrooms, and the other two would become any room I want them to be, and that most likely means I would be having the whole second floor to myself. This really doesn’t sound so bad. I picked the biggest room, and poked my head in, realizing that the bed and all were already furnished perfectly. It must be grandpa. He knows me really well. Too well.

I threw both my luggage onto my bed and opened them, revealing my clothes and all my other belongings and started unpacking. First, my one and only family photo left after grandpa decided to keep the rest away from me at our old home. He only allowed me to keep one, the one we took when I was 15, in which I really don’t look much different compared to the present me. Staring at the photo, I wished so much that they were still here with me. It didn’t matter if we were going to move either way, as long as they were here, things would be perfect. I quickly put the picture frame at the side of my bed before I could actually start crying my green orbs out again. I proceeded with the rest of my unpacking and once I was done, I had also finished my lollipop. Being lazy to open another open, I chose to leave the empty lollipop stick in my mouth and chew on it instead.

Heading downstairs with my headphones hanging around my neck and smartphone, I hopped onto the longest sofa that was facing the wide screen television, switched on the television and started to channel surf, deciding to figure out the town’s frequency, hoping they have my favorite music and drama channels.

“Trianna!”

I heard my name coming from behind me, before turning to my grandmother. She merely shrugged at me, so I pouted at her and responded to my grandfather. “Yes, grandpa?” turning to meet gazes with him. I instantly felt a bunch of papers being shoved into my hold.

“What is this?” I asked, flipping through the pieces of paper, which I realized had my name and identification number printed everywhere.

“Your new school registration confirmation. I have already settled everything for you. And you are reporting to school the day after tomorrow, on Monday.” My grandfather said, taking a place next to my grandmother as they cuddled up.

“Isn’t this a little bit too soon?” I frowned. I really did not hate school. I just hated the fact that if I have to hang around humans, I have to deal with my control over my craving. It’s stressful and tiring.

“You are not getting away with anything this time, Trianna. It’s been a year since you last went to school. And the sooner you go out there to train, the better. Eventually, you will need to walk out of the house.”

Crap. I struggled to find another excuse. And light bulb!

“What about this and this?” I pointed at my eyes first, then my teeth.

“Don’t fret about it. I’m stocking up on your contact lenses for you, and your lollipops. Plus, your teeth aren’t obvious either, those lollipops are grazing them off.”

“But-!”

“Trianna!”

I bit my lips, “Yes grandpa…” I knew there was no way I can argue further. My grandfather was right; I have to deal with this someday, somehow anyway. Why not just go out there and face the music, get it over and done with? He had already obliged to me for a year, it was my turn to listen.

Dinner was spaghetti with carbonara, my grandfather’s best cuisine. Nothing beats this. It was my favorite behind lollipops. After dinner, it was sliced fruits and television. Once I felt I had my fair share of the night, I kissed my grandparents goodnight.

Third Person POV

After Trianna headed up to her room, her grandmother frowned.

“What’s wrong, Katrina?” Trianna’s grandfather asked, caressing his wife’s cheeks.

“Xavier, don’t you think it’s a little too harsh on Trianna? Making her go to school now? Go out there with the humans?” she questioned, as worried as her face portrayed her to be.

Xavier sighed. As much as he did not want to risk his one and only precious granddaughter, he had to. “Katrina, we have to let her go. She is very unlike me. If we don’t let her go, we will never have our answers about her. I know I promise to ask my friends more about Dhampirs. I will. But Trianna still has to go. I cannot protect her forever.” Xavier let out another sigh, “I don’t even know for sure, if she is a Dhampir.”

Trianna POV

The morning sun shone on my face indicating the new day. I struggled to open my eyes as I lifted myself off my bed. I stretched uncomfortably and yawned. This new bed sure needs some getting used to. After combing and tying up my shoulder-lengthed dark brown wavy hair, I washed myself up before heading down to the first floor.

“Good morning Grandpa. Good morning Grandma.” It was a habit to greet. A good one, I know. It was pancakes for breakfast, I could totally smell it since I was upstairs. Popping my head into the kitchen, I took another deep breath.

“Pancakes?” I asked, excited.

“Bet you smelt it the moment you woke up.” He laughed.

“Not exactly, but when I was upstairs, yes.” I chuckled along, moving to hug him.

“Good morning Tri.” He greeted, hugging me tightly.

“Where’s Grandma?” I bobbed my head around, not seeing her anywhere in sight.

“In the backyard trying to do some exercise.” He answered.

You are seriously letting a 75 year old woman do exercise alone in the backyard. Call yourself the best husband in the world. Creep.

I ran towards the backyard and saw my grandma doing some stretches to the morning radio slowly. Like literally, really slowly. I skipped over to greet her, shocking her a little before I pounced slightly to hug her and give her a daily dose of her morning kiss. Sensing that my grandfather was almost done with the pancakes, I led her back into the house and sat her down on her seat at the big round dining table. After helping my grandfather with laying the table, we three finally sat down for breakfast.

Picking up the maple syrup, I poured enough to cover my pancakes before placing my block butters on them, melting them and coating the pancakes. Love them this way. The silence during the meal was perfect, until my grandpa decided to break it.

“So,” he coughed slightly, “Any plans for today?” he asked, looking straight at me.

“No… Why would I have any plans made in a new town?” I asked, avoiding eye contact with my grandfather because I knew exactly where he was getting at.

“Why don’t you take a walk around the new town?”

I cursed under my breath. I think I forgot to mention. My grandfather’s vampire gift, was reading minds. That was exactly why, he knows me very well. ***** to be me, sometimes.

“Sure, doesn’t sound like such a bad idea before the start of school?” I replied. I was not out of my mind. But since I had already promised to go to school, there should not be a problem with just walking around town and try to get used to humans one day earlier. “Are you two coming with me?”

Grandpa nodded and said that he had already suggested to grandma about taking a walk around town, to let grandma know the place better as well as get to know a few faces around us. He felt it wasn’t nice to not greet if you are new in town.

After getting changed into a simple tee and shorts matched with my favorite pair of converse shoes, I hung my headphones around my neck again, plugging the end into my phone and opened one lollipop to pop into my mouth before heading out. The smell was already overwhelming at the door. Thanks, you pathetic piece of body. But if grandpa could get used to it, so will I. I saw my grandfather picked out his favorite hat and placed it on his head and I smirked. At least I can handle some sun.

Walking around town, we got to know a few people. Like Uncle Tyler, owner of the Italian restaurant along the streets, and a few other people around my grandma’s age or slightly younger. I merely greeted and smiled at them, not knowing what to say. Sadly, my grandpa had to introduce himself as my grandmother’s son. Very heartbreaking, to me at least. My grandparents long foreseen this and had been mentally prepared, I really sal
John Stevens Jun 2010
The little boy stood, with cone in hand. The ice cream on the ground.
The tears welled up in his eyes, as people stood around.
Tears fell like rain, his heart was breaking, he didn’t know what to do.
Then through the tears, saw grandpa kneeling… Saying, “Grandpa’s here for you.”

Grandpa said to the ice cream man “Another ice cream please.”
“Stack it high and pack it tight.” “We’ve got things to do and see.”
The little boy melted into his arms The sorrow turned to joy.
When grandpa’s near, all is better For grandpa’s little boy.

Oh, grandpa loves you Tony Boy Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find me waiting there.
I’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get there .

The little boy grew to a fine young man. The time went by so fast.
He learned of things not of this world. The things that will always last.
You could see grandpa and the young man, Walking side by side through life.
When things got tough they called on Him, To help them through the strife.

Oh, grandpa loves you Tony Boy Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find me waiting there.
I’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get there .

The young man cried when grandpa died. As they lowered him in the ground.
Tears welled up, in his eyes As people stood around.
Tears fell like rain, his heart was breaking. He knew just what to do.
So he looked up high to see the Father And heard “Grandpa’s here for you.”

Your, grandpa loves you Tony Boy Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Me I will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find him waiting here.
He’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get here

Oh, grandpa loves you Tony Boy Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. Your will find me waiting here.
I’ll be kneeling right next to Jesus While I’m waiting for you to get here.

Good night sweet Prince. See you in the morning.
©9-15-06 John Stevens
Written for my grandson Tony (5).  People say we are joined at the hip.  He is a 24/7 little guy and this is how I "wish"/"hope" life will be lived.

Ice Cream was written for my grandson Tony (Anthony Stevens) as a reminder how I want to be as an influence in his life. There is also an underlying deeper meaning as to our relationship to God. Our Ice Cream (blessings) hits the ground from time to time because of our neglect or possibly no fault of our own, but God is there if we just look up and see Him kneeling to take us in His arms.

It all started on a Sunday morning when my Pastor said, “imagine a little boy standing there with an empty cone in his hand…. and the ice cream is on the ground. The images came flooding in and by the time first service was over, most of it was written. Since I run the sound system I listen to both Sunday morning services. Much of what I have written about has come from a trigger on Sunday morning or something similar. What do you do when YOUR Ice Cream hits the ground?
It has been sung to a couple of venues.  No it is not recorded.
John Stevens Nov 2013
The little girl stood, with cone in hand. The ice cream on the ground.
The tears welled up in her eyes, as people stood around.
Tears fell like rain, her heart was breaking, she didn’t know what to do.
Then through the tears, saw grandpa kneeling… Saying, “Grandpa’s here for you.”

Grandpa said to the ice cream man “Another ice cream please.”
“Stack it high and pack it tight.” “We’ve got things to do and see.”
The little girl melted into his arms The sorrow turned to joy.
When grandpa’s near, all is better For grandpa’s little girl.

Oh, grandpa loves you Lucy Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find me waiting there.
I’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get there .

The little girl grew to a fine young woman. The time went by so fast.
She learned of things not of this world. The things that will always last.
You could see grandpa and the young girl, Walking side by side through life.
When things got tough they called on Him, To help them through the strife.

Oh, grandpa loves you Lucy Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find me waiting there.
I’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get there .

The young woman cried when grandpa died. As they lowered him in the ground.
Tears welled up, in her eyes As people stood around.
Tears fell like rain, her heart was breaking. She knew just what to do.
So she looked up high to see the Father And heard “Grandpa’s here for you.”

Your, grandpa loves you Lucy Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Me I will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find him waiting here.
He’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get here

Oh, grandpa loves you Lucy Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. Your will find me waiting here.
I’ll be kneeling right next to Jesus While I’m waiting for you to get here.

Good night sweet Princess. See you in the morning.
©9-15-06 John Stevens

11-08-2013
Written originally for my grandson Tony (8).  People say we are joined at the hip.  He is a 24/7 little guy and this is how I "wish"/"hope" life will be lived.  I realized I needed to make a copy for Lucy Girl (4) so she will be included.

Ice Cream was written for my grandson Tony (Anthony Stevens) as a reminder how I want to be as an influence in his life. There is also an underlying deeper meaning as to our relationship to God. Our Ice Cream (blessings) hits the ground from time to time because of our neglect or possibly no fault of our own, but God is there if we just look up and see Him kneeling to take us in His arms.

It all started on a Sunday morning when my Pastor said, “imagine a little boy standing there with an empty cone in his hand…. and the ice cream is on the ground. The images came flooding in and by the time first service was over, most of it was written. Since I run the sound system I listen to both Sunday morning services. Much of what I have written about has come from a trigger on Sunday morning or something similar. What do you do when YOUR Ice Cream hits the ground?
It has been sung to a couple of venues.
Dear Grandpa that I never knew,
Mommy told me so much about you,
Sorry that you couldn’t watch me grow,
Or in my childhood much could sow,

But Mommy did once a tale me tell,
Of how you made her laugh
and picked her up when she fell,

you taught my mommy of what people to one can do,
while you did live,
So Grandpa thank you
for the love to mommy you did give,

Grandpa its always been strange to hear,
How mommy does in her memories hold you dear,
I can’t help but wonder how you where,
to cause mommy when she speaks of you to cry that single tear,

Mommy said she was always one of the boys,
But you taught her she was beautiful and to keep her poise,
she was too teased for not being thin,
but you taught her who she was, was what made her win,

Of all her knowledge once belonged to you,
The songs she sings and all she holds true,
Her love for nature and ones soul,
But grandpa your death on mommy did take its tole,

So Grandpa though your absents makes her blue,
Mommy say she owes who she is all to you,

So My Grandpa by no other name,
Thank you,
Because otherwise Mommy wouldn’t be the same,

But dear Grandpa I Never Knew,
but my heart through mommy's touched,
You should know that mommy loves you,
very much,

And though I don’t know you grandpa dear,
When I see mommy cry her single tear,
I know I’d have loved you lots too,
Because mommy’s love for you was and still is so true.
John Stevens Jul 2014
The little girl stood, with cone in hand. The ice cream on the ground.
The tears welled up in her eyes, as people stood around.
Tears fell like rain, her heart was breaking, she didn’t know what to do.
Then through the tears, saw grandpa kneeling… Saying, “Grandpa’s here for you.”

Grandpa said to the ice cream man “Another ice cream please.”
“Stack it high and pack it tight.” “We’ve got things to do and see.”
The little girl melted into his arms The sorrow turned to joy.
When grandpa’s near, all is better For grandpa’s little girl.

Oh, grandpa loves you Lady Sye Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find me waiting there.
I’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get there .

The little girl grew to a fine young woman. The time went by so fast.
She learned of things not of this world. The things that will always last.
You could see grandpa and the young girl, Walking side by side through life.
When things got tough they called on Him, To help them through the strife.

Oh, grandpa loves you Lady Sye Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find me waiting there.
I’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get there .

The young woman cried when grandpa died. As they lowered him in the ground.
Tears welled up, in her eyes As people stood around.
Tears fell like rain, her heart was breaking. She knew just what to do.
So she looked up high to see the Father And heard “Grandpa’s here for you.”

Your, grandpa loves you Lady Sye Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Me I will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. You will find him waiting here.
He’ll be by the ice cream stand a waiting Just for you to get here

Oh, grandpa loves you Lady Sye Girl Forever and always.
When things get tough, call on Him He will lead you through the maze.
When you get to Heaven, many years from now. Your will find me waiting here.
I’ll be kneeling right next to Jesus While I’m waiting for you to get here.

Good night sweet Princess. See you in the morning.
©9-15-06 John Stevens

07-14-2014 For Sye
Amber Rush Nov 2015
First I would like to thank everyone for being here today to pay his or her respects to my grandfather Robert Sohm. He would be pleased to see so many of his friends and family here today. Whether you knew him as a husband, father, grandfather, or friend, you probably had the same level of appreciation for him that I did.I would sincerely like to thank all of you on behalf of our family.  While we know that Grandpa is deeply deserving of the love you’ve shown, the outpouring of support we’ve received in recent months, weeks, and days has been truly overwhelming

He  lived a full life and had four amazing children and Seven grandchildren one being myself

His wife Pat is a great women. My Grandpa and Grandma were the ideal team.  I’ve often thought of them as the original power couple.  They were inseparable, and took care of each other for 50 years.
She is a huge part of our family and I hope she knows that we will always be here for her. Sometimes I’d wonder how either of them would ever manage should one go before the other, but over the past few days I’ve come to realize and appreciate that many of you will help take care of my Grandma through the tough times to come.  I know she is in good hands.
I know I'm not alone when I say we are always here for you and we love you
and respect you so much. If you ever need anything please do not forget that.

My Grandpa might not be a super hero, but he's my hero.
He's a soldier who had to conquer many battles in his life.
He's a fighter and someone who loved with all of his heart.
He's the "claw", and a best bud
Someone who may not function like everybody else but is able to bluntly tell it like it is and go the extra long mile to get stuff done one handedly
I wanted him to be the one who walked me down the aisle on my big day.
God has made other arrangements for him.
It's hard loosing someone who's your fatherly figure,

He was a caring person but he knew how to stand up for what he believed in and I think everyone here has a good memory of grandpa that they could share. I think we have all had a piece of us taken away but we can rest easy knowing he is in a much better place. My grandpa was a great man. When I think about him the words that come to mind are: my best bud , the claw, caring, humorous,  storyteller, and family man. These are just a few words that come to mind, but it is impossible to summarize how great a person he was in words.

He was a shoulder to lean on, a friend to rely on, and a rock for our whole family. I think about family values and how they aren’t the most important thing to people anymore. My family has always been close and always stuck together. My grandpa's pride and joy was his family.

My earliest memories of time spent with my grandfather are living at and visiting his house when me and my sister were kids. We would hide in the back room and wait for him then sneak out when we thought the coast was clear and he would come chase us pretending to be the claw.

He might have been stern with us, but Grandpa loved us kids. Family brought joy to his life — and he brought joy to us, in his own, sometimes grumpy, way.

We say that he has gone to a better place — but Grandpa will never truly be gone. He is always with each of us who loved him. It is not for us to think of him as if he was lost from our lives, but rather that we continue forth with him as our companion, celebrating and honoring his life. So I’ll think of him with every class that I take because I knew how much he wanted to see me graduate. Remember how he use to always say how someone wasn't so bright, always making sure I have a jacket when it's cold  yet be the one outside on the deck tanning when it's hot and him betting for football games. I'll always remember how much he loved going to Vegas and seeing his favorite saxophone player Carl. I will Be comforted in the memory of his smile… He’ll be in the small things and the quiet moments, forever by my side. I will miss my Grandpa, and will always be grateful for the time and warm memories I have of him.


We little knew that day,
God was going to call your name.
In life we loved you dearly,
In death, we do the same.

It broke our hearts to lose you.
You did not go alone.
For part of us went with you,
The day God called you home.

You left us beautiful memories,
Your love is still our guide.
And although we cannot see you,
You are always at our side.

Our family chain is broken,
And nothing seems the same,
But as God calls us one by one,
The chain will link again.

Where you were once my sunshine you are now my stars
Jude kyrie Jan 2016
Finding my Heaven
a letter to my grandpa

I remember you when mom died grandpa.
I was so small and frightened.
You took me to your home.
I remember your unshaven face and
brown hard working hands Grandpa.
you fixed everything with your hands.
But you fixed me with your love.

you gave me mom's old room.
You told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there.
When she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not
believe in heaven Grandpa.
You said it's alright I will one day.
Heaven was a different
place for everyone.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms Grandpa.
it was always so safe.

I never told you Grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma were my heaven.

I know you have gone
now to your heaven.
Sat in a kitchen up there
eating food from the old country.
Grandma at the stove
mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe
before the war.

My heaven was
with you all grandpa.
I think I will
change my heaven
to yours after all.
That's all I want Grandpa
just our heaven.

I only wish
there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you.

All My Love Grandpa

Jude
Harrison Apr 2017
My grandpa who eats steamed sweet potatoes on foothills textured in green rice patties
dreamt up a tall brick house with a black iron gate
barbwires sprung around the tips of the entrance to keep out thieves
right now he wonders how long he can keep fibbing to my mother—
their rotten hut at the end of the massive foothill, not fleeting
monsoons come early, swells the ground till it gave
a landslide takes four people and a child

that day, red stars hung above Tiananmen square gates
grounded bones came in sacks, white cement hauled by green skin trucks

My grandpa who loves sweet potatoes constructs an ivory wall.

after the revolution, the sun peeks out in montages
peering through the smoke
gunpowder stuck to the tank tire roads
black heads roll off yellow tar dirt into a pit
My grandpa gives his best friend one thousand yuan—
visas for my mother and grandma,
His best friend disappears,

writes my grandpa
an apology and, leaves him a large white sack of uncooked sweet potatoes

light tan, severs in half and plops down on the lumpy cutting board,
dusty orange inners, grandpa tosses them in the boiling water
and later, while gnawing down,
he pretends they are oranges for once

Grandpa, who’s kneeling on our dried front yard with a worn out copper pail
waters the salty earth slowly until it sprouts sugar canes
chops one down, breaks it in half, the sun beats
peering through palm leaves
a viridescent river of silk and pale honey
my small three year arms grab a hand full
sliced by grandpa into pieces neatly placed
in a blue flowered ceramic bowl
years later, I chop a stalk down and chew until
English becomes a second language again
and in my twenties, I grab a hand full
sliced my mom into pieces, places them in a weaved basket
made of reinforced bamboo
I put it in front of my grandpa’s grave
in Fujian on the foggy mountainside of a small retirement town.
The edge of the South China coast covered in a thick plastic smog,
I sit on a stone eating sweet cold potatoes with my grandpa facing outland,
a red kneeing sun, barely visible past the trees
John Stevens Mar 2017
July 4, 2015
Grandson Tony and Grandpa went to Mickey D's for breakfast. Grandpa was ready to vacate the premises when Tony barred the door. "Just a little while longer Grandpa." So Grandpa sat back down.

Soon a cake and five of the Mickey D people appeared and sang happy birthday. Tony was apparently being a little secretive and alerted the establishment when we clocked in. Grandpa cut four pieces of cake. Two to take  home for Lucy and Grandma. Two for Tony and Grandpa.

Tony then ask if he could give his piece of cake to someone. "Sure you can." grandpa replied. There were two tables with grandparent types and parents sitting 10 feet away. Tony picked up his piece a cake and a fork and squeezed in between the two tables and  placed the cake in front of the young fella who eagerly began eating it. Grandpa then noted the boy had Downs  Syndrome. The people at the table were pleasantly surprised at what had just happened. A grandmother came over where Grandpa was sitting and express that  it was a very thoughtful thing Tony did. The whole thing rather blew Grandpa away. But that's the way Tony is.  Full of surprises.
This was July 4, 2015.
I thought I had lost the piece of paper this was written on.  FOUND IT!!!
I remember my old Grampa
And the way he used to look
He had so many stories
He was much better than a book

I remember on our visits
While the folks would head outside
Gramps would get us grandkids
And take us for a story ride

He'd hitch up the hay wagon
We'd get up and off we'd go
Then gramps would start to talking
And so began the show

He'd tell us all the stories
Of our folks when they were young
Some he had to censor,
And sometimes bite his tongue

Now, Grandpa told the stories
Whether we were in or out
And we'd all sit and listen
To what they were all about

When we'd gather by the fire
He'd pull up his rocking chair
He'd have his pipe and all us grandkids
And his dog, Whiskey, always there

We'd all sit in front of Grandpa
We'd want to take in every word
And he would speak up louder
To make sure that we heard

He'd tell us tales of Cowboys
Of bank robbers and the trail
Of how the west became the west
And how his horse once lost his tail

The folks would gather round too
When it was almost time to go
But, Grandpa, being Grandpa
Wasn't set to end the show

See, he'd told the tales forever
To our folks and all their friends
You could tell that some were truthful
And in some the truth....well....bends

The older ones among us
Knew deep down that most were fake
But, to see old Grandpa work the room
Man, that man just took the cake

We'd get together monthly
All us kids stayed close to home
We weren't like lots of others
Who had that built in urge to roam

The stories, we'd learn later
Were mostly from TV
He'd be talking of those cowboys
And of how things used to be

A few years back we lost him
His dog had up and died
Gramps old heart was broken
He couldn't take it, though he tried

My brother tells the stories,
Not as good as Gramps at rhyme
But, the kids all hunker round him
I'm sure that he'll be good in time

We still go on the hayrides
Tell ghost stories now instead
To all us grown up grandkids
We still hear grandpa in our head

Each month we get together
There's near a hundred now in all
The kids go with my brother
And he tells tales ten feet tall

The stories are consistent
Of old cowboys and the west
I can close my eyes and listen
And still like Grandpa's versions best
Jude kyrie Aug 2016
I remember you
I was just a young boy.
when mom died grandpa.
Your unshaven face and
brown hard working hands.

you fixed most everything with your hands.
You fixed me with your love Grandpa.
you gave me mom's old room
you told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there.
When she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not believe
in heaven Grandpa.
You said it's alright I will one day.
Heaven was a different place
for everyone you said.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms grandpa.
it was always so safe.

I never told you grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma
were my heaven Grandpa.

I know you have gone now
to your heaven.
Sat in a kitchen eating food
from the old country.
Grandma is at the stove
Mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe before the war.

My heaven was with you guys grandpa.
I think I will change my heaven
to yours after all Grandpa.
That's all I want
just our heaven.
I only wish there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you all.

You Loving Grandson
Jude
Paula Swanson Jun 2010
Every year it was brought down from the garage rafters.  Green metal frame and
springs, green canvas with white fringe and a little green pillow.  It was laid out, hosed
off and erected.  Grandpa couldn't have done it without us grand kids.  He said so.  It
was placed in a spot of honor.  Just a couple of feet from the picnic table and in a spot
that was always in the afternoon shade.  A folding T.V. tray was placed next to it to
hold cold drinks and snacks.  Within a few days, the grass under the frame would be
brown and dead.  The grass at the sides of the hammock would just be plain gone.  
Scuffed away by feet, as we kids sat on the edge and swayed side to side.

After mowing the lawn, washing the car, or doing any other chores needed, Grandpa
would go inside and put on his "Hammock clothes".  This consisted of a pair of Bermuda
shorts and a ribbed tank style Tee.  White socks and brown sandals completed the
outfit.  Once dressed appropriately, he would head for the hammock.  The first "sit" of
the summer season was always a bit touchy.  One had to get use to the hang of it.

There he would stand, next to the hammock.  Cold drink in his one hand, the T.V. tray
forgotten.  His slightly bald head and stick thin legs already slightly sun burned.  Slowly,
he would start to lower himself.  Reaching back with his free hand to grab the edge of
the hammock.

Note**  of course us kids, grandma and mom would all be spying out of the corner of
our eyes to watch this ritual.

Then came the "Grandpa Sit".  Grandpa would rock slightly forward and back on his
feet.  1-2-3 and ....SIT!  A few wobbles.  A couple sloshes of his lemonade.  All of us
yelling  "Whooooaaaaaa".  He would sit there on the edge of the hammock, holding
himself steady with one hand on the edge.  His feet firmly planted on the grass and his
other hand holding his cold drink high aloft.

Now, the sandals needed to be taken off.  One of us grand kids would run over and
help take them off.  Tickling his feet as we did so.

So far, no damage to life or limb.

Ah, but he was not yet fully on the hammock yet.

Now came the "Swing and lie down" move.

Slowly, grandpa would reach behind himself and grasp the far edge of the canvas.  
drink in his other hand still held aloft.  O.K.....1-2-3...SWING the legs up and quickly lie
back.  Let the hammock come to a stop.

Where's Grandpa?

On the ground on the other side of the hammock soaked in lemonade.

Summer was officially started!
Ann M Johnson Oct 2013
I see grandpa as I look up to the sky
I can envision him as he greets Jesus eye to eye as love and joy fills the air
The Angel's sing welcome songs and the anthems reach the heavenly throngs
as Jesus and Grandpa walk along the streets of gold as they passed through the Golden gate
They stood for a moment and stared into the Crystal lake, I heard Grandpa exclaim , I can
hardly wait to tell my children about this beautiful place
They traveled along a little further and  joy and peace filled the air
He turned and saw grandma standing there, smiling from ear to ear as she said "I've been waiting to see you, here there are no tears, no sorrows, nor fears here there is only happiness, love, joy and peace eternally
I heard that up in heaven Jesus has prepared, the things that make his children happy
I am sure for grandpa  there will be many 500 card games and they will be the best ever
i wrote and read this poem for my grandpa's funeral.
I hope you like it my friends!
Logan Robertson Apr 2017
every year
grandpa tells
the same story
over and over
like he's saying
it for the first time
he loves walking
in his own puddles
it would be
at the dinner table
during
Christmas and Thanksgiving
there's a candle lit table
waiting for good cheer
not ours
we stood sentry
to grandpa's story
as our faces glowed in horror
grandpa had that effect
he would begin
by looking at grandma
at the other end of the table
a nervousness in hers
and with a gleam in his eye
and a broken record inside
he began
there once was bag of marbles
... ha, ha
he would actually say that
and inside
all the shiny marbles cling and clung together
... ha, ha
your grandma and I
... get this
we were a red and yellow marble
and the exception
as his voice raced faster
his eyes bigger
his face a sweet melody
and he's so kid like, and he's eighty
..." we banged"
..." we banged"
the words coming out juvenile
perhaps from a drunk,
but he doesn't drink
then
on cue
he prompts us to say
you what?
"we banged"
"we banged"
..."your grandma
was in my back pocket"
his face lighting up in a smile
his eyes and ears peeking, waiting
for applause
and we did ... we did
grandma
her face beet red
she would look around the table
her eyes looking at the turkey
back at him, back at the turkey
we could read her mind
every year the same story
that's grandpa
grandma, for her part
would always
bask in grandpa's puddles

LR-4/24/17
Jude kyrie Aug 2018
Finding my Heaven
a letter to my Grandpa

I remember you when mom died grandpa.
I was so small alone and frightened.
You took me to your home.
I remember your unshaven face and
brown hard working hands, Grandpa.
You fixed everything with your hands.
But you fixed me with your love.

You gave me mom's old room.
You told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there.
When she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not
believe in heaven, Grandpa.
You said it's alright, I will one day.
Heaven was a different
place for everyone.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms Grandpa.
it was always so safe.

I never told you Grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma,
were my heaven.

I know you have both gone
now to your heaven.
Sat in a kitchen somewhere up there
eating food from the old country.

Grandma at the stove
Mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe
before the war.

I know I lied when I said
I don't believe in Heaven
Grandpa.
My heaven was
with you all, grandpa.
I think I will
change my heaven
to yours after all.
That's all I want Grandpa
just our heaven.

I only wish
there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you.

All My Love ,
Grandpa
Jude
A thought of kindness
to all loving grandpas everywhere.
Jude
Field Of Moons Oct 2014
Beady almond eyes, cocoa butter skin, hot chocolate on his breath.
     Grandpa is here, no worries or fear.
I adore the way his soft cheeks flush pink every time he laughs, and how his frame is so fragile during a hug.
     How is a man so weak, so strong?
When grandpa is here, everything feels safe, everyone is so kind.
       He makes me feel so special, I hope I make him feel the same.
        Ohhhh how I miss you so Grandpa!!!!!
My days are so cold and empty without you, I often sit in your favorite comfy chair and sip hot cocoa just to feel close to you.
Grandpa love is not strong enough a word for my emotions toward you.
    Grandpa......  I miss you!!!!
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Kids play differn't these days
not so flat, more points of focus in less time,

more  POVs and Portals and Morphic Resonance and such

Minecraft. If you never watched a child at play
building a world from available resources,
near-infinite, digital resources limited
by algorithms based on

science.
Eco-industrial-only-mortal-home-known science.

You should see it.

Stones and plants and animals and winds and water
using right, effecting change, shaping things
in her world.

You should see what your grandchildren think.

They have access to tools we only imagined.
Remember what you imagined a road grader could do?

She built heaven with a stairway and I suggested
an elevator.

She said I could build one, a heaven elevator,
for old people in a world I make up.

She had planned to teach me if she had the chance.
She made me several avatars, she knows me.

wizard grandpa who asks if we know
the sweet influences of Pleiades,

his hand points up to the right
because this is the night after the first

quarter of the final moon pre-solstice
and he is looking west.

That one,
that is the one I will be-- wizard grandpa
square head with a pyramid on top,

minecrafty me exploring the undeveloped
fractal morphing algorythms

I'll-go grandpa, go go rhythm of the winds

drifting in what might have been a micro fiber dust bowl
waste land of 8640 chips and Zunes

(you can listen to books and play, Grandpa, at the same time)

Ah, Sam Harris, you asked a reason for the faith that is in me and my grandchildren know it so honor is at stake

and many other pride sourced sorts of things
contention tension challenging the tensegrity of made up minds

working together, serially parallel on every level of the grid, kid

Worlds with no evil intended,
that can be envisioned, practically, tested,
in Minecraft the game in conjunction
with the suggested myth in
Minecraft the interactive story

and Grandpa's story
in the world he migrated from, the journey way and back to

The Desert in The Rain shadow of the Moral Landscape
we can jump off right here

I have photos, in the cloud

trust me, things hap
ex acted
when
done
didone done
done
AM radio
The golden tones of Johnny Gravel
Kay tripple AAAAAAAAAA

A delightful ditty from the fifties programing,
in the fifties this one goes out to Rosemeade

Ah, the idyllic four bedroom ranch
now on the end of a street that dead ends
at the I-5 cliff.

A tune, whistle, while you work,
it's a hap hap happy day all the clouds have blown off

the doors of my perception
my mind expended, spent fi'ty years on the trip,
weary wearisome make ever much
some effort to discover the act

of effectual prayer
which took prayer, effectual or not, by faith, leap
fast
over the edge,
you learn that, day one, in Minecraft Training
by Brynn Aulyn

next is always over the edge,

of my perception
my expent
effort to discover the act

of effectual prayer
which took prayer,
and fasting,
over the edge,
you learn that, day one, in Minecraft Training by
******* Grandpa

next is always over the edge,

but I did not grow old after playing Minecraft as a child.
I grew old after playing with dynamite in a mine
as a child.

Major POV cred Grandpa

My weapons are not carnal.

Is there a monster if jack
finds treasure at the top of the beanstalk
and says to hell with the suffering
mother so he becomes
a god, in harmony with the giant, doing any good he can?

Let the dead bury the dead.

This is for ever.
What they don't know won't,
will not, would not, has no volition to hurt them, ever.

Good, you know, good. No good is ever bad and
the nintendray dooblay is, like rackabilly,
intentional
pre
positioning me for the idle word of the day to be ******
from hiding into the light of
double entendre? how do you mean?

light. OK, okeh, no other resupposings,

there is never light in a creation myth
until some utterance of the idea of light is communicated

which btw
mean there must be sentience from the get go

and mebbe, I thank on it, other wise, as well

as before, the get go,

it was gitgo, all the way down back ahead to Happy Together,
the song,
British invasion,
very creative hope sorta vibe
Turtles all the way down,
Hawking could not put it in words. He could keep time.

You had to be then, it was a brief history. Funny though.

The old ones gone on, they say okeh.
We good to go
happy hunting. Merry Christmas, take any open door
and listen.

The game is making many decisions based on what you pay attention to. In reality attention weighs decisively more than money in any form.
Doncha luvit, life is so unbelievable, until

you die, you think, you've seen something like what you think is possible happen, you've seen death objectively

anybody can do that right? That is evil.

Killing or dying?

Both.

Lizard brain.

the great game, neath ever more layers of moth eaten cotton and worm spun silk lace

crocheted and starched to make doilies for the parlor
when the pastor comes to pay his due attention

to chicken, made sacred for the occasion
in boiling oil, not golden,  but
fried chicken could look golden in the right light seen from the right height, apron strings high.

I could say my grandma served the man of god a golden dead bird.
And the blessing that was said came upon me

because the window in the top of my head never shut.
Air head. hearer of secrets where secrets
make themselves known, as truth sets one free. Jesus knows.
If anybody does. Wait and see. Be good.

Soyal, Yule, Christmas and the contenders, also rans
in the mid-winter hope leverage ceremony
rites of passage missing
or missed? Missed
Messages of a way promised where there seemed no way.

It is finished. The wireless grid. On the AM dial one

wee zero beat beyond simple,

you find sublime. define that. You feel what I said, Merry,

my wish to you, Merry, message of the promised way to you,
make you merry upon remembering

good wins, it never quits winning.
good, we know, personally,
good, right now,
not bad, we can touch, you and me, imagine that being good.
if feels Christmassy, in that good way.

the old way, where good is, find that. Then later, I am the way, believe me when I say I know where the kingdom of God is,

My granddaughter, somehow, gifted me a Map,
it was delivered by a messenger fly.
No war toys. *******. Watch the boys play Minecraft.
Real world, Christmas Spirit wish from me, KP, may the best be what you have too much of.
when i was just a kid mamma walked away
left me with my grandpa thats where i would stay
grandpa played guitar sang a country song
when he began to play i would sing along

he would make me smile when ever i was blue
pick up his guitar sing a song or two
the love he gave to me was the only love i knew
to my he was my grandpa and my daddy to

when ever i was down grandpa he would play
sing a country song take my tears away
someday when im older and im grandpa too
ill sing a country song like he used to do

i wont forget my grandpa or his loving way
or his country songs that he used to play
that he sang to me when ever i was blue
love that he gave me  the only love i knew.

he would make me smile when ever i was blue
pick up his guitar sing a song or two
all the love he gave was the only love i knew
to my he was my grandpa and my daddy to
Julie Grenness Jul 2015
This tribute to Grandpa to read,
Lifeline in our family tapestry,
Every stitch sewn with love,
Grandpa's guidance from above,
In our web of threads.
Echoes of patterns never ends,
Colours entwining, shades selecting,
Our Grandpa standing tall as a tree,
Our family tapestry,
In him we always believed,
Memories of the olden days,
Our family's exemplar, now passed away,
Endless hours, part of his story,
In perpetual light, he rests in glory,
Our Grandpa stood tall as a tree,
Yes, in him we always believed,
Stitching here endlessly,
Grandpa's place in our family tapestry.
Feedback welcome.
Grandpa?
Tell us about the flowers again.

"I don't like to tell those stories anymore little Bug."

but you write allll your poems about the flowers
you have so much love in you papa!

"I don't remember the flowers, Bug."

you have to remember the flowers!
you spent years telling the world about them on stage!
How the sunflower invited you to an occupied bed
and you stayed there for shelter
imagined a future with her, another child
But You found your child in the pansie
when the sunflower left for Hotter adventures.
You really loved the pansies Grampa

"Yes I did, more than anything."

Every time you met a flower you left them for the pansies!
the pansies are so pretty
they had you obsessed grandpa, you were addicted you said!
how they smelled, how they felt on your fingers
but they were always getting into danger and never listened to you
they made you feel like you were broken
and they were withering away
All of your flowers always went without eating grandpa!
why didn't you water them?

"I promise you bug, I watered them plenty."

crying on them doesn't help grandpa,
you needed to feed them

"I fed them plenty"

Did you feed them enough sun?
you always said you kept them in
with the windows shut, that's why they withered
until they all left you for the sun

"The sun left me, they didn't leave me for the sun."

No the forget me nots took the sun from you
you said that a lot
how she stole the happiness from you and gave you this poetry
how you really can never forget her
and you hate that it's her favorite flower
because it seems enchanted on purpose to haunt you.

"Let's talk about a different flower"

Ooh the daffodil didn't eat either
she wrote poems about it! and she even wanted to plant a bunch of poison for you
she kept coming back too! all the flowers came and went with the seasons
she gave you so much that you practically died when she left
you were poor and got sick from not eating
crashed your car and tried to **** yourself

"these aren't casual things you should be talking about in passing with your grandpa bug"

but it's all in your poetry!
the pansies really loved you grandpa.
The sunflowers gave you Charity because it's what they knew
The daffodils supported you when you both needed each other
the forget-me-nots are the reason for all your trauma and will stick with you for the rest of your life
but the pansies kept coming back because they loved you
you didn't offer each other anything other than love
you didn't drive each other or pay for bills
you didn't even like to go out but you did, because it was a reason to be together

What's your favorite Flower Grandpa?

"I never had one when I was asked"

when was the last time you were asked?

"when the pansies first told me their name"

what did you say?

"I said goodbye...
but not for long
you know me and the pansies"
Harold r Hunt Sr Jan 2016
Grandpa Jack
Grandpa jack was 96 years old today.
He would sit in his rocking chair.
Grandpa would let us know of the good old days.
And how he seen two world wars.
He would tell of the friends he lost and the ones he saved.
Then he would say that into days world there is too much hate.
Too much crime and killing.
Grandpa would  say to me only God can save this world.
No man just God he can see the things that are wrong.
He can help save us all or burn us up.
I would sit and listen to grandpa Jack
For he was wise and has made me wise too.
SøułSurvivør May 2015
~~~

My memory of grandpa
Was that his hands were red
Showing me some pictures
A kid's book before bed.

The bones were raw and gnarled
The sinews looked all sore
The skin was thickly callused
Spotted, lined and scored.

They showed wear and tear
They echoed his toil
Grandpa was a farmer
A tiller of the soil.

Grandpa couldn't read
But we could laugh and look
His hands delicately turning
The pages of a book.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/12/2015
This is one of my favorite memories.

~~~
Dakota Schmidt Jan 2011
Tell me one thing; why?
Why did you take him from me?
Why didn't you let
Me say goodbye?

I've sat up crying all day,
Trying to put the pieces
Back together.
I still can't think straight,

I still can't remember
My purpose.
Why did you take him
From me forever?

I know he's not
Suffering anymore,
And he has no more pain,
But I wasn't ready to let him go.

I wasn't ready to drown
In my own tears.
I just want one last hello.
I want to see his smile

One last time,
Before I get carried away.
I want to hear his laugh,
Feel his hugs,

Tell him everything I
Have to say.
I want my Grandpa back.
Why did you take him from me?

My mind is only slowly
Working on half track.
I am at a loss for words,
And it feels like he's

Still here with me.
I can't believe he's gone.
I love you Grandpa,
You will be missed.

Your suffering soul is free.

Robert Leonard Smith
December 29, 1934-January 21, 2011
Gone, but never forgotten.
I love and miss you Grandpa.<33
In Loving Memory of Robert Leonard Smith, The Best Grandfather, Father, Husband, And Friend Anybody Could Ever Ask For.
December 29, 1934-January 21, 2011
You Are Gone For Now, But Never Forgotten. Rest In Peace.<33
Tark Wain Jul 2014
It was the 25th
which meant only one thing
a trip to grandpa's house
every 25th of every month
we traveled the 10 minutes
down the gravel road
to see my grandpa
and his rocking chair

man that rocking chair
sculpted from reddish brown wood
balanced perfectly
like a pedestal
I had never sat on it
just out of respect
I admired from afar
every 25th

my grandpa was always in that chair when I arrived
rocking back and forth
and forth and back
like Galileo's pendulum
rain or shine
snow or wind
when I pulled into that driveway
my Grandpa was in that chair

it fascinated me as a kid
like he was some video game character
programmed to do this mundane task
it was familiar
it was calming
but I grew older
and thought about that chair less
along with my family

but every 25th
even on a windy day like today
I'd travel down the gravel road
to see my grandpa
when I arrived the chair was rocking
back and forth
forth and back
but my Grandpa was not sitting
Dorothy A Jan 2015
Shane Page made a quick call to his daughter, LeAnn, as he waited in the hospital lounge. “Hey, Dad, what’s up? You sound kind of upset.”

“LeAnn, Grandpa had a heart attack…”

LeAnn’s dark brown eyes grew large. “Is Grandpa dead?”, she asked. She was fourteen years old, and a wise, sensitive girl who cared a lot about her grandpa.

“No, not that, hon. The doctor says he will recover, but he had some blockages and he needs some fixing up.  He’s resting right now, pretty comfortably. I just wanted you to know where I was and that I’m okay—so don’t you worry. Look out after your brother…” He sighed in exhaustion and ran his fingers through the top of his dark hair. “It’s going to be a while before I’m home.”

“Well, wait a minute!” she protested.  “Why can’t Trevor and I go with you? Maybe Mom can drive us up there.”

Shane started to raise his voice, “Leave your mom out of this!” Then he realized his tone was a bit harsh and said more calmly, “You two got school tomorrow and there’s no need for you to be here now. Anyway, I don’t want to involve Mom.”

Shane and his wife, Megan, have been separated for four months now. It would be more than likely that they would be getting divorced. LeAnn, and her brother, Trevor—who was eleven-years-old—were staying with their father. It worked out that they remain in their home.  

“Dad”, LeAnn insisted. “She’s still our mom…”

“Just look out for Trevor. Ok?”

Shane got off the phone, and just sat there staring at the television but having no real desire to even pay any attention. That was the farthest thing from his mind. Around him were a few other tired people, looking about as frustrated, tired or worried as he was.

It has been a trying year for him. Still struggling with his marriage issues and now he was dealing with his father’s health problems. At age thirty-six, Shane was a young father when he married Megan. He felt it was the right thing to do considering she was pregnant at the time. The odds were against them remaining married, but they made if farther than anyone would have expected.  He certainly remained married longer than his parents—who were married for seven years—but he blamed his parent’s divorce on his womanizing, cheating father, a man he did not want to follow in his footsteps.

Dr. Bakkal had spoken to Shane, earlier. “Your father’s fortunate he made it in when he did. He was in requirement of two stents, and he was resistant to having them put in. I told him if he wants to continue to live, he’d be wise to get them. Otherwise, he’ll be in the same boat, but now we can prolong his life.”

“So he’s refusing?” Shane asked. That was his father, alright, stubbornly pigheaded to the bitter end.

“Thankfully, he signed for consent and he’s allowing you to be included in conversation over his medical issues. But really it is a good idea for him to have a power of attorney. You are his only son? ”

“Right.—I’m it”, Shane responded. “Well, that’s my dad for you. He thinks he’s got it all under control. Anyway, I’d be okay with being power of attorney, but who knows if he’d even have me. I don’t need to tell you he’s a stubborn man. He’s a proud man—too proud.”

“That he is”, Dr Bakkal agreed. “He doesn’t have a wife who can step up to the plate?”

Shane laughed a little. “He’s had four wives. My mom was the first. The lady he has been seeing now I’m sure saved his life. She was the one who demanded he go to the hospital and she drove him here. But she called me up and says she’s done with him.” The strain was obvious, as it was written all over Shane’s face. “He’s a headache, Doctor. He drinks too much. He smokes. He has yet to meet a vegetable…”

The doctor stated, “But things don’t sink in until we are forced to face them, sometimes. And he thinks because he looks alright on the outside, he’s okay on the inside—a fairly handsome man—a ladies man—who is, one used to being his own boss.”  

Shane agreed, but his face was grimaced. “That he is, Doctor. That he is. Yeah, but when the ladies get wind that he ends up treating them pretty shabbily—well, I’m not going to fill in the details. Four wives should tell you the answer.”

Dr. Bakkal put his hand on Shane’s shoulder. “Ah, but you seem to have a good head on your shoulders. I’ve no doubt you have some sense.”

Shane nodded.

Nodding his head—drifting in and out of sleep—Shane continued to wait in the lounge. Soon, Shane’s dad, Carl, had been able to get into his own room. Shane was able to go in and see him. Like Carl had told one of the nurses, he was “all wires, tubes and coils” and he had “enough numbers lighting up on fancy gadgets to keep the place busy” as his vitals were constantly monitored. Soundly sleeping, he seemed much smaller in his hospital bed with his face half shielded by an oxygen mask. What a strange sight it was. He hadn’t seen his dad in the hospital since his gall bladder surgery several years ago.  It was a bit unsettling for Shane to see him this way.

He didn’t want to wake his dad, so Shane just grabbed up a chair and sat by the foot of the bed. Before long, he had fallen asleep, too. When his phone range, he was entirely confused as to the time, even to what day it was.

“Hey, Dad, how’s grandpa doing?”

Looking at his watch and then peering out into the darkness out the window, he answered, “What’s that I hear…in the background? LeAnn, is that your mother there?”

“Yeah, Dad, I told her. She felt like we needed her and she’s making dinner for us.” Megan could be heard in the background talking with Trevor.

Shane frowned. “Oh, great! Didn’t I tell you not to involve Mom? You are perfectly capable of cooking, LeAnn. You do a good job, and—“

LeAnn abruptly handed her mother the phone. “Shane”, Megan said. “You can shut me out from helping you, but you can’t shut me out from helping my kids. Don’t act like you couldn’t use a hand.”

“I’ll be home soon”, he insisted. “It’s really not necessary. I’m not trying to be a **** about it…”

“You stay there as long as you need to. I can call Uncle Sal and tell him you might not be into work tomorrow.”

Shane worked as a manager and mechanic in his maternal uncle’s car repair shop. “Megan, I am quite capable of doing this kind of stuff, you know!” He hesitated and gave in to what he saw as interference.  Perhaps, guilt compelled her to come over. After all, she was the one who walked away. She was the one who was unfaithful, the one who strayed.  He added, “You want to look after the kids—then fine. I’ll worry about me”.  

“Well, you got it! I won’t interfere too much in your life, Shane. You’re just a chip off the old block,” she remarked, referring to his stubborn father. “The kids and I are doing just fine. I got it covered! Okay?”

“Hi, Dad! Love you!” Trevor boomed out from the background.

Megan laughed. “You caught that, didn’t you? I think the whole neighborhood did”.

There was no use trying to resist Megan’s help. “Tell the kids that their grandpa is comfortable, sleeping like a log. They can see him soon enough.” He stopped as a nurse came into the room to check in on his father. They briefly smiled at each other.

“Give them each a kiss and a hug for me”, he said, lastly, almost choking up. He wished it was like it was before—the four of them under one roof. But that was not going to happen.    

Shane met Megan at a party. She was a college student learning to be a teacher. He was working for his uncle in his auto repair shop. The plans were set for Shane to take over that shop one day. Uncle Sal had three daughters, none of them the least bit interested in taking over the business. When he met Megan, he was doing well for himself.

It was love at first sight for him. He was attracted to her fun loving personality, as well as her beauty. Her blue-green eyes would light up the room. At first, Megan wasn’t feeling the same way. Shane did slowly grow on her, this “grease monkey” with his serious nature and beyond his years. They would talk about their future together, for they really did enjoy each other’s company. But then reality hit them in the face when Megan became pregnant with LeAnn, and they married very soon. He wanted to marry her anyway, but now it was a matter of integrity. Shane wanted his child to have parents who were married and for his kid to know him better than he knew his dad.  

Megan gave up on her schooling, not becoming the teacher that she dreamed of. Shane often wondered if she resented him for this—like it was entirely his fault—though Megan never expressed that to him. A few years later and Trevor came. Plans to go back to school were put on hold. That light in those eyes seemed to grow dim, but he didn’t really notice that she was unhappy. He seemed to lose focus.

Such thoughts were punishing at this time, and he tried to bury them deep down. It was amazing that he was able to have a sound sleep in the hospital, resting in the chair in his father’s room. Next time he opened his eyes, the sun was shining. He looked up, disoriented a bit, as he noticed his dad looking at him, a small smile on his face and no more oxygen masks.

“Hell, Son”, Carl said in a gruff voice.. “You look worse than I do”. Carl’s thick head of grey hair was disheveled, and his usually, neatly trimmed mustache was invaded by surrounding ****** stubble.  

Shane got up and stretched and said back, “Thanks, Dad. Good morning to you, too.”   He looked at his watch and added, “Glad you’re alive. You scared the hell out me. You got your grandkids worried.”

“Well…get me out of this ****** hospital and I’ll show you I can get around just fine”.

“Whoa! Whoa! Superman—you are not! Just lay back, relax a while, and do what the doctors tell you.”

“Like what?” Carl asked with a furrowed brow.

Shane was careful not to lose his temper. “Well, for one, you can quit smoking. Two, you can give up the *****. Three—take your cholesterol medicine…”

“Ok….ok….you sound like your mother now”.

Shane knew it would go in one ear and out the other. He stood by the window looking down in the parking lot. “Yeah, Dad, Maybe I do sound like Mom, but someone’s got to tell it to you straight. Put some sense into you. Stop just for once and think of someone else besides you. If no one else, think of LeAnn and Trevor.” He paused and added, “Think about me for once.”

Carl laughed and mocked him, “Poor, little Shane’s got it so bad. I’m not against you, Son, okay? You’re a big boy, so man up! I’m sixty-nine years old! My old man was gone by fifty.” He started having one of his coughing spells, his cough like an old smoker’s cough.

Shane shot him a sharp look. “I guess I’m a fool to expect any better. Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear—as mom always says. Obviously, just wasting my time here!” He went to grab his jacket to leave.

Carl boomed, cheerfully, “Well speak of the devil!”

“What?” Shane asked, unaware of what was going on. He turned around and there was his mother standing in the doorway. He smirked and said, “Mom, I’m surprised to see you! LeAnn, right? ”

Rosina smiled and nodded as she entered the room. With salt and pepper hair, and an olive complexion, she commanded the room with her presence. Carl always referred to her as “Queen Bee”, for she had that quality—regal like a Roman statue when he first laid eyes on her—though she was down-to-earth in reality.

Carl groaned at the thought of her coming. “Is it safe for a person to be in here?” she asked, in her grand entrance.   She whipped Carl a stern glance. I’m not here for you!” Then she gave a look of concern her son, and told him, “I’m here because I’m supporting you, my dear. And yes, LeAnn called me.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and a quick hug, and he returned the loving gesture.


“Mom, you didn’t need to drive over an hour to come up here. But since you are—have a seat.”

“You sure as hell didn’t, Rosie”, Carl echoed.

“Oh be quiet!” she ordered Carl, putting him in his place. She dismissed the offer of the seat, and told her ex- husband. “I’m worried about my only son, but I also am interested in how you’re doing…if my grandchildren will still have a grandfather. Take better care of yourself and maybe they will.”

Shane comments were sardonic. “Maybe miracles still happen…like quitting smoking, boozing, and maybe doing some walking and healthier eating…but since when has Dad ever listened to you or me?”

Carl attempted to sit up and get out of bed, but the effort was ridiculous. He groaned in pain. “Give a poor guy some rest, already! You two are just a couple of nags!”

Rosina sneered. “Old nag—old hag—*******—say what you want about me, but you know I’m right! Anyway, you are outnumbered. Or am I, Shane, and the nurses and doctors all talking out their rear ends?”

Carl made a face. If only he could just get out of here.

“Honey”, she said to Shane. I’ll be downstairs in the cafeteria. I’d like some coffee. You can join me down there if you’d like and we can talk.”

“In a little while, Mom, thanks”, he replied.

Rosina walked up closer to Carl and put her hand lovingly upon his chest. “I really do want you to get well, old man. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

“I know you do”, Carl admitted. “That is one of your faults. You don’t stay ****** forever.”

Carl was more scared than he would let on. He hated hospitals. He would do anything to just be back home in his recliner, watching a football game and having a few beers. What he wouldn’t do for just one puff on a smoke, too. Anxious, he tried to hide his fear, but it was just a smoke screen. He didn’t want anyone to know how he truly felt, nor did he want anyone to feel sorry for him.

There was silence for several minutes. Shane had said all that he should say. After all, he knew his dad probably wouldn’t listen. “Hey, Dad”, he finally said. “LeAnn’s going to her school dance. There’s a boy that likes her, but I’m really not ready for that.”

Carl grinned. “She’s a pretty girl, alright. Takes after her grandma when she was something else—way back, you know. The girl looks more like your ma than you do, though always felt you took after her look instead of me”. Carl’s background was English, Scottish and Welsh, and Rosina was full Italian. To Carl’s side of the family, he looked like his dad. To his mother’s side, he resembled her. Trevor took very much after Megan, with light brown hair and those blue-green eyes.

“Yeah, she is growing into quite a beautiful young lady”, Shane agreed “I got to still go dress shopping with her…and, oh, let the fun begin!  Can’t think of anything more enjoyable than a day of running her all around the malls.”

“Well, let Megan take her, for God’s sake! Or let your mother do it.”

“Dad”, “It’s fine. It may not be my thing, but all the stuff I do with Trevor—going to his baseball games, soccer, to karate. Well LeAnn was more into that stuff but she’s getting more into girly things.”

Soon, a young woman came in with Carl’s lunch, and placed the tray in front of him on his table. “Cute, huh?” Carl remarked about her after she left. Shane did not say a word.

“You need to get back out there. Get out and meet a nice girl”, Carl said, picking over his food. Jell-O, apple sauce, broth, a roll and juice—he wanted a hamburger. But how could he get a good one here? There were too many “spies” as he called them watching over him.

At the moment, Shane seemed miles away from his dad. Whatever he was saying made no impact. He made it a point not to speak of his problems with Megan to his father, and he liked it that way.  By Shane’s expression, he felt his son was holding back on something. But the truth was, so was he hiding something.

“I got myself into this mess, I know”, Carl declared about his heart attack. “I came close to saying, ‘Sayonara—that’s all, folks!’” His remarks were typical—just blow everything off. He joked as if he wasn’t fazed by it all.

Shane had now closed his eyes, and kicked back a little, “Uh huh”, he agreed, though he was simply responding without thinking about what Carl really said.

Carl didn’t want to be tuned out. He had something to get off his chest. He said, “ Well, all that’s done and said, maybe this is the right time to tell you. Got plenty of time here with my own thoughts.” He hesitated, for it wasn’t easy for him to say it. “ It’s bout time you know”, he said. “I think with me almost bitin
My early memory of farm,
Blackfella’s hill, banana sand,
exploring, chasing rabbits.
And riding round with grandpa,
in the white and well loved station wagon
checking sheep, windmill and chooks.

The lollies in the tin were there,
to help him stay awake at night;
but grandchildren were once allowed
to sample from the tin of treats,
in longer trips with grandparents,
while out on country roads.

The farm, a favourite place of mine,
away from school and normal life,
but Modb’ry North not quite the same.
With grandpa still out shearing though,
the farm-like feel not far away,
and granny kept a strawb’rry patch.

I went a-shearing with him once,
About six customers that day
and I can’t count the load of sheep.
I earned five dollars on that day,
while travelling around in ute
with shearing stuff all in the back.

His love of music satisfied,
the grandchildren are all gifted,
the music played from instruments
of cello, clarinet and bass
of flute, piano, violin,
and voice as well from Kate and Jo

Called grandpa day or dad or Doug
he’ll be remembered, days to come.
The stories will be told and told
of happenings while he was here,
from farm or Modb’ry North or else,
from other places he has been.
This is a poem that I wrote for my Grandpa when he passed away earlier this year.
EJ Lee Apr 2019
My Grandpa was given a challenge and an opportunity. I was diagnosed with dyslexia at age seven. He never had actual experience dealing with a child that had dyslexia. He wanted to impact my life in some way that did not involve reading, but was just as effective. He realized that if I would not be able to read then I should experience life instead. After talking with my mom, they came up with a plan for the summer. During my first trip to France, I was given the rare opportunity to see something new. He took me on the canals and showed me the county in a way that was not found in books.
It was an experience that I would never forget. At age seven, I did not do the same amount of work on the boat as everyone else. What I remember doing was coiling and collecting the lines (rope) and making them into perfect flat circles. When doing this, I was getting the lines ready for the next lock. At first the locks were scary. The tall cement walls were covered in green algae. I could hear the water spilling out at a rapped pace. The locks were filling with water, making the boat rise higher than we once were. When we finally reached the height of the water on the other side of the way out, the door opened and we started up again on to the next lock.          
When we were on the boat in the canals, my Grandpa taught me how to live on a boat, work as a team, and to have patience. He always said to my mom and me, “you always need to find time to play, no matter how old you are.” That was what the summer was for. He always thought that you are never too old to have fun and act like a kid, now and then.
Working the canals on the boat was something that I picked up almost naturally. It felt like I already knew what I was doing and how it had to be done. I was working with my hands and keeping my mind off of school and the challenges I had there. Doing this gave me confidence and allowed me an opportunity to be successful.
School is much like the rough waters in the canal. Summer for me was a break from the formal education that I was failing at. In school, I had been falling behind and not getting the education that I needed. For instance, my reading level would get lower every year and teachers did not know what to do with me. So Grandpa tried to work around my dyslexia in a way that only I would get. This is something that no one else attempted. It felt amazing that I was doing something without realizing that I was learning too.  
He also knew that I was interested in drawing. So along with the canal trips he took me to art museums to see paintings firsthand. While I walked through the galleries of the magnificent paintings, Grandpa would take his time reading every little blurb about every painting. Even though I could not read well enough to understand, I never understood why someone would read instead of looking at the paintings and letting them tell a story. In my mind, he was a walking encyclopedia, absorbing every scrap of information that he could. To me, he knew everything and he was willing to share it with me at every possible moment.  
For the seventh summer together, he wanted to go on the Themes in England in order to see Windsor castle. I was thirteen, he was eighty-two, and this was the most memorable trip I ever had. With the excitement of a new adventure ahead we left port and it began. We went from working the locks and mooring the boat, watching movies on the boat that took place where we spent the night, and concocting new recipes with whatever we had on hand.
Two weeks after the trip we had together, Grandpa felt ill and sadly passed away. He died of leukemia. On his dying bed he completed every last minute detail before he died. Above all, he did not want his death to affect his grandchildren while they were at camp and school. He did not want them to know until after they were through, because he didn’t want them sad while they were supposed to be having fun. My mom honored that wish.  
Two weeks after he died, my mom, Dad, and my little brother picked me up at the end of summer school. I was not expecting all of them to pick me up. When everything was set we left, but my mom did something out of the ordinary. She hopped in the back seat of the car. She did not look happy when she told me that Grandpa had died. I was shocked. I did not understand how it was possible. With all the mixed emotions, I cried on my mom’s lap the entire ride back home.
Now as I am growing closer to college and having my own life, I still think fondly of my grandpa and what he did. I still can’t believe that it had been more than five years ago since he passed away. Deep down, I know that if he was still alive today he would be so proud of me and the accomplishments that I made despite my dyslexia.
Short essay about my life and my grandpa
Patrick Austin Sep 2018
Our Backgrounds before we met...

I'm an only child born in Montana in 1983, from a divided home. Parents divorced at seven, Mom was unstable and unfaithful. Dad obtained custody of me and we moved to Oregon Coast to live with my Grandma. I had unhealthy visits and relationship with Mom thereafter. My Grandma died at 12 and at 13 my Dad remarried an alcoholic woman, I had a strained relationship with them until adulthood when she stopped drinking. I had exposure to trauma; alcoholism, mental illness, verbal abuse and juvenile troubles. I rebelled by using drugs in my late teens and early twenties, I lived on my own for a few years after high school but had little direction.

My bride is the eldest with two little brothers, parents stayed in same area of Portland during childhood with lots of family support and her parents stayed married. They had Christian values but some anger and anxiety issues at home. She was sexually assaulted at 17 and never had good closure with this. She told me her parents didn't provide her enough help with things like this growing up. Status quo was the backbone of the family dynamic, challenging emotions were discouraged. She rebelled by being reckless with herself, financially and sexually. She decided to join the Navy at 19. She lived alone briefly, but mostly with Grandparents & Parents before our marriage.

I loved how we both grew up reading Archie comics. No other girl I had ever met had that in common with me. I think we wanted a surreal life like the one in Riverdale.

2002

She and I were 19 when we first met in my home town on the coast at an arcade. We became friends and secretly liked each other. I was too nervous to ever make a move on her. We traveled together, she stayed with me, we used drugs together and drank at times. One night she drank too much and had *** with a guy I knew at a party. I was devastated by this. She was Navy bound and I didn't see a real future for us. The next morning she left and I didn't talk to her again for two years. I figured she would be gone with the Navy soon and that she must not have been interested in a relationship with me despite the time we spent together.

2003

I was depressed about this rejection. I dated an older woman who was interested in me but was no substitute. I eventually moved to the Portland area to work and live. I still had few plans and was lonely, in or out of the few brief relationships I attempted. I never found someone that I felt safe with or had a true connection, let alone true love. She ended up not following through with the Navy and continued working her way up in her job at the call center. She attended community college and dated a few guys. She dated one guy for a couple of years who was not a good match for her but stayed with him off and on despite issues. His family was wealthy and treated her well. He slept around on her as did she. At one point he gave her an STD. She also had an ongoing affair with a married man in the military that she went to high school with. He had a child and a wife with mental health issues. She was still hurting a lot at times and not always doing well.

2004

She reached out to me via email after two years of no contact. We emailed back and forth a couple times over the next few months. We talked about meeting up. We spoke on the phone and eventually met up in Portland. We had an amazing night getting to know each other again and work past the confusion of our earlier days of friendship. I realized that she did in fact like me before but since I was timid and trying to be proper and take things slowly she didn't understand my motives. She apologized for her actions at the party as well. She claimed she was in a really messed up place and was making bad choices at that time. Getting our feelings out in the open was good and she appreciated my attitude towards being slow to make moves on her when we first met. I was worried about falling for her based on our history but eventually I was determined to give it a shot. We soon after starting dating and being intimate. Our love was extremely powerful and beyond all others we had both experienced. She broke ties with other suitors and shortly after we talked about marriage and started planning a wedding for the next year.

I remember when we first held hands. We were so shakey and she was quivering on my couch as I had my arm around her. We felt so safe with each other. We could finally be ourselves and do what our hearts desired. We knew we were on to something new and so amazing. We were so patient with each other as we navigated our new love and emotional thresholds.

I remember when we saw Matisyahu in concert together. That was a once in a lifetime experience and a life-changing moment for us. I feel it set the tone for things to come in our future.

I remember how creative my proposal to her was, in the Arcade where we first met. I hid the ring in a prize container from one of those claw machines. Pretending I got the ring from inside by reaching into the machine on one knee I was so nervous and wasn't sure if I could pull it off before she caught on. She looked so shocked and surprised. I was so excited she said yes! We took pictures in the photo machine and had burgers afterwards, I'd do all of it all over again just to see her face in that moment.

2005

We found an apartment for us in Portland. I moved in while she was still living back with her parents until the wedding. She had to change her number because the married man she was previously involved with kept calling her about changing her mind about marriage and continuing their relationship. She was offered a job in Denver and we decided to move away together after our sandy wedding in Cannon Beach. I still had a very hard time and was embarrassed with my past history with her. Many of my friends knew what had happened at 19 and how much it hurt me but I was so crazy about her I think I tried to pretend it didn't happen or that it was not a big deal because we were younger. We got married and moved to Colorado soon after. We made friends at a church, I became more active as a Christian and really loved being married. We were very involved in keeping spirituality in our marriage. I began to notice her poor financial decisions and practices more. This caused conflict but we always tried to communicate and work on things.

I remember when we went down to my folks for New Year's in 2005. We sipped tea in my Datsun as we drove to the coast over the snowy mountain pass. We told them of our engagement. We were all so blissful and excited. We never knew what was to come. We didn't even know about the opportunity in Denver yet. Our story is amazing!

I remember when I wanted to go see her in Portland and the roads were iced over. I left my car at a park and ride before I caused a wreck. I took the light rail across town then rode a bus to the Eastside shopping mall. The bus to her house was not running because it wasn't safe so I walked the rest of the 4 Miles sometimes having to crawl on my hands and knees to make it up hills in the ice and then I finally made it only to just spend a couple hours with her and fall asleep on her parents couch. Her Dad drove us back the next morning to my car so I could get to work. It was all worth it just to see her for that little extra time. I would have done anything for her.

I remember when she was interviewing for the new position in Denver? I drove all over Portland trying to find little toy cars to help with her illustration about how a team is like a car having all four wheels and how they work together to accomplish a goal. I was so proud of her for giving it her all and succeeding at earning that position. Now that I think of it, that car analogy applies to our family and us. We all need each other to be better and keep on track and be a team. I am so motivated by that and our boys. I lose my way without that and I want to be her reflection and motivation as she has been that for me. I truly thought we brought out the best in each other when we were together.

I remember when we were given tickets to see Fiona Apple. That was so spontaneous and a great way to kick off our time in Denver together. We always used to watch our same movies over and over again. Like the Friends DVDs and White Christmas every winter break and The Wedding Singer. We walked everywhere and lived simply. "I wanna be the guy, who grows old with you"

I remember in our first Denver apartment when we took baths together in our claw foot tub in the big bathroom. We put a board over the top and played cards. I liked playing Uno with her in bed too. She was so funny being slightly color blind and in the dark, mixing up the greens and blues. We played Uno in Breckenridge too at that cool bed and breakfast in the fall.

2006

We had continued fun and adventure in our new home of Denver. She was doing well as a trainer for the bank and I started working in health foods. We went camping in New Mexico a couple times with friends and we both took individual trips to Oregon as well as one together for her uncle's wedding. We had marital spats on occasion but always bounced back. The issues we had seemed like part of a normal marriage and were far better than what I had grown up around. I realized that marriage was a lot of work but I was up for the task. She occasionally became aggressive throwing things at me or breaking things during conflict.  I believed I was the problem and tried to change for her in many ways. With two incomes we still had trouble making our bills at times. She had debts that I never knew about that started to catch up with us but I took care of getting them settled and we paid off her car and traded it for an older Volvo Wagon that we both loved, I even had it repainted her favorite color for a birthday gift. Overall things seemed like they were progressing in a positive way.

I remember when we saw Midnight in concert in Boulder. That was the peak of our hippy days. We were alive with pleasure in our healthy vegetarian diets and practices living in a time and place like no other. I want to be like that again. Reggae was our music. We had much in common.

2007

We really fell into our roles in our marriage and the community; church and culture, friends etc. Things seemed very balanced and appropriate for us at that time and that age (24-25). We had separate bank accounts and jobs. I had money in savings. We started the process of buying a house so we could invest in something. She became pregnant shortly after. I embraced the challenge with positive energy but we were both in for a big change. We started having more fights. I didn't have many friends and would write to old friends via social media just so I could to catch up and tell them things were going great with being married to make myself feel better than I actually did. She hated the dawn of social media and also felt isolated I'm sure. She felt I should be doing more for her and I didn't know how to do what she needed but I failed to ask a lot of the time. After one argument, she left the house. My instinct told me to look at ******* and ******* as a retaliation. I had not done this much once we were married because she always met my needs but when things were difficult between us I felt more emotionally isolated. She walked in and realized what I had been doing. She was very upset, and because she was pregnant, thought I was not attracted to her. The truth is I found her even more beautiful and in fact when I looked at ******* I tried to look at women I found less attractive than her so that I feel good about what I have. I mostly fantasized about how these women were more submissive and loving than her. That is the part I needed to feel good about and feel better about myself with because I felt very dominated and controlled. She has never forgiven me for this and I will never stop feeling sorry to her for my brokenness. During one particular argument that year she was getting close to being violent towards me again and I pushed her away on the chest with my fingertips. She got very mad and said I hurt her. I immediately felt terrible and apologized. I never let something like that happen again. I have always avoided violence towards others especially women and of course her. I was defenseless against physical and emotional abuse.

2008

Our eldest son was born at the beginning of the year, it was a traumatic birth for everyone. We wanted a natural birth with a midwife but we were transferred to a hospital and she ended up having an emergency C-section, nothing went as planned. We had a really hard time coping with the emotions of this experience. A lot of buried feelings and trauma from both of us started coming out. We moved a month later into our new home outside of town. No more walking or biking to places, we had to drive everywhere. This house was next to our friends from church. We thought this would make us feel less isolated but we didn’t really have the community with them that we had hoped for. They were upset that they didn't have a child of their own yet and being around us might have been hard for them. My wife stopped working and stayed home with our son. All these changes made for a very difficult time. I did my best to support them but this was the first time we shared a bank account and needed to follow a budget more than ever before. We had no debt at the beginning of the year with money in savings but then the hospital bills put us down about $7,000 and rising with new home and moving expenses and baby needs. My job could barely keep up. She and I had a hard time adjusting. We could not afford to travel home to Oregon and visit family as much and we felt more and more isolated. She started showing me more signs of instability, locking herself in the bathroom with kitchen knives and scraping her legs which continued off and on for years to come. Talks of divorce and suicide threats seemed to happen more than before. I felt responsible and tried to fix her ever changing issues with me.

I remember when herr ******* were full and swollen with milk. It is so beautiful the way she could feed our babies. I wanted her in every way, our bodies belonged to each other. I was there for her and our shared pleasure. I loved it when she told me that she was mine in the heat of passion. This spark could only be a bandage for so long but I didn't know that yet.

2009

I tried to promote within my company but was not selected, they were cutting budgets and employment all around me. I felt worried about our future. I had always thought the military might be a good opportunity and could move us closer to family back home. My father-in-law encouraged me to look into the Coast Guard. I felt this would be a good way to get moved closer to Oregon.  I ended up joining the Navy because we found out we were pregnant again with our second son and that was the only way I could join a military branch. She worked off and on as a nanny and later in the year at a coffee house working nights. We barely spent time together and when we did it was a lot of hard conversations or arguments about finances with making up intimately in the middle of the night between times of caring for the baby. She once scratched my neck with her fingernails during an argument. People I worked with noticed. It was a hard time and we knew change was on the horizon with jobs and moving. We did visit Oregon that summer though and had a great vacation at the beach with a borrowed 4x4 and staying at a hotel and picnicking out of a cooler as well as going to her brothers wedding. I was 26 and about to join the Navy to provide better for my family at all costs sacrificing myself for their benefit because I would have rather died than look like I didn't try my best for them.

I remember when our babies would kick and move around inside her belly. I loved laying by her and feeling her tummy. I would hum to the baby and hear them move and squirm. I loved giving our boys baths when they were babies too. We had our little bundles of our love, wrapped in a towel in our hands, so tiny and vulnerable. I miss those days and want to remember them with her, aside from this state of melancholy.

2010

The Navy recruiters would only take me if we rented out our home and had her stay with family during boot camp and training. We moved to a furnished apartment in Denver and put our things in storage. She was 5 months pregnant and our eldest was two. I shortly after was let go from my job. Our second son was born in April. I got a contract with the Navy at the last minute but didn't leave until August. We sold our beloved vehicles and lived off retirement funds for six months and moved down to Florida where her parents had just moved out of the blue for work, to stay with them until I left for boot camp. I applied for temporary work in Florida at a dozen places but had no luck in my three months there. I took care of our eldest a lot while she took care of the new baby. Being in Florida was a culture shock for us but we had our moments of romance and made the best of it. Eventually I left for boot camp in August. It was really hard and sad to be gone. She stayed in Florida and came to visit me with the baby at boot camp graduation in October. I then went to Connecticut for five months of training. It was also hard but at least I could call home every day and be in the same time zone. I visited Florida during the winter break and saw my boys and her. We went to Disney world and had a great time on her parents. We also made a romantic home movie I could enjoy while away from her. I flew back to Connecticut and tried to make the best of things. My roommate was very abusive of substances and I resisted the temptation for a long time but the threat of being submarine service bound and missing my family pushed me to drinking every weekend and getting messed up to escape before I left.

I remember when we drove to Key Largo, Florida and stopped at a crazy bird wildlife center. I remember our oldest was so amazed hearing a bird say hello back to us. It was so foreign and fun there. I am glad we all shared that experience together.

I remember our trip to the citrus grove in Florida. That was such a great day for our family. I always look back on that with really fond sentiment. I felt like I was in a beautiful family music video with them.

2011

I finished Submarine Training and got orders back to the Northwest. The plan was all coming together. I arrived first and bought a car and got our items moved from storage in Denver to our townhouse rental in Washington. She and the boys joined me a month later. I didn't report to my Sub for another month as they were at sea. She became pregnant again with our third son right after arriving. We had just bought a small car and were not planning on another child. Towards the end of the year I was working a lot and having a really hard time, being bullied and treated poorly at work plus our financial situation was still very difficult. Adjusting to the military was hard among younger men being 28. I dreaded each day in that environment but I tried to endure it for my family. I went to sea for a couple months at the end of the year stopping in Hawaii and California. During this time She reached out to her ex married affair partner after six years of no contact. She didn't tell me until later. She said she needed closure with him, we were not in counseling yet but she decided this was appropriate. I flew home early from sea and wanted to surprise her. The stress and trauma of this quick transition home after being to sea for the first time (which was also traumatic) made me want to drink and get messed up before flying. I arrived home and surprised her but I seemed off to her which I was but didn’t explain why, I have never done that since. I got to be home for two months almost work free while we celebrated the holidays and prepared for the new baby to be born. She started getting more involved with a church and building a community for us which was great. Our financial struggles almost led us to foreclosure of our home back in Colorado but by the grace of God we got it sold with a short sale just in time.

I remember when I came back from Hawaii and brought her a beaded necklace and she wore it naked with her big beautiful pregnant goddess belly and we made passionate hippy love together. I want to grow out my beard again and spend my life making hippy love and feeling free again.

2012

Our third son was born in January. It was a very positive birth experience and much less stressful than the other two. Shortly after I flew out to finish the other half of the deployment I had missed. I really focused on being positive and spiritually connected by reading my Bible at sea which was helpful. I called her when I arrived in Japan halfway through being gone. She was upset because she tested positive for an STD while trying to get on birth control. I became suspicious of her yet she was suspicious of me. We both got tested again and I was clean, she told me she had a false positive after all. This put a big strain on our trust, especially being so far away. This forced us to be honest with each other about some things such as her contact with her ex lover and my drinking to cope. We were both very upset until I returned home and we could start some counseling to work through things. Forgiveness seemed to be difficult for us. It brought up hurts of the past when we were 19. She also had severe postpartum depression that became worse after each birth. I was still having a hard time with work and the submarine environment. Our church friends tried to counsel us but it was not the most helpful. My submarine was scheduled for extended repairs and not going to sea for three years, I would be transferred before the end of that period. I used this time to bond with her and my boys. I wanted to get better involved in our community and do volunteer work and side jobs to earn extra money. Our boys were all given diagnosis's for autism which begun to fill our lives with appointments and challenges for years to come but we were a good team in dealing with all of it. It gave us something to work together on but took our focus away from working on our own personal issues and relationship with each other as much as we should have.

2013

We had new years with both sides of our family in a snowy mountain setting in Oregon. It looked like it was going to be a great year until her Grandpa passed away suddenly. It ripped our entire family apart but especially her. He kept the family grounded and she was very close to him, he really loved all of us. She and I started going on dates again because we had Navy sponsored child care. It was the beginning of a really good thing for us. Tragically one night after a date we were dancing with the boys on the patio and I tried to pick her up and I lost my balance and fell on her, breaking her collar bone severely. She needed surgery and was very mad at me for years to come. She has a scar, a metal plate and numbness in her chest. We worked through it with our community from church but she still is very mad at me. I feel more terrible about this incident than she could ever know. I would lose a finger in place of that incident if I could. I continued having a really hard time in the Navy and I didn't want to stay in but She insisted our boys needed care only the Navy could offer. She also said she would divorce me if I ever left the Navy. I took this threat seriously even though she assured me later that she would never actually do that. Against my own convictions I reenlisted because I wanted to do the best thing for my family. We moved into base housing at the end of summer and didn’t go out to do things as much anymore. The house was nice but it ****** us in, we also had less community with people around our home. I started volunteering at church more and doing work with special needs people. I felt like I was doing good things and that I had purpose all around. I think she appreciated this about me.

2014

We started seeing a professional counselor together and individually. It became a regular event. I worked on myself and she worked on herself. I had a lot of issues with my Mom and eventually broke off communication with her for my own well-being and the betterment of my family. I got past a lot of the bad feelings I had. She worked on her traumatic experiences and our relationship dynamics. Just when things were going well I got a new boss who made things hard for me and others at work and I started messing up more. I got in trouble for messing up a job at work and was given strike one on my record. She lost respect for me as a provider but I tried to stay strong showing her that I would continue to do my best.

I remember when we had an appointment in Tacoma and we had a brunch date together afterwards. She looked so beautiful that day, I took her picture and was so proud to enjoy  huevos rancheros and momosas with her. I remember going to the Tacoma Art Museum seeing the Georgia O’Keefe exhibit, we have a great time together doing new things and feeding each other's interests. I loved laughing with her too, sometimes we just bust up like nobody's around. I loved the sound of her laughter. I loved watching Portlandia with her, it is so funny to remember the funny place where we became close and be able to relate together.

2015

I kept working hard and being involved with family and appointments for my boys and her. I still maintained my volunteer work and part time side jobs. I got strike two with the Navy for messing up again... I had just gained orders to leave the sub for local shore duty. I could not get out of the extended repair situation soon enough. She was very disappointed in me and not so understanding. I worked through this situation with our counselor as did she. He always told her I am a good man and that I do a lot for her and the boys. It's true, I care more than anything about them, I made mistakes and I feel bad especially when I cause my family stress. I left for shore duty in April. It was a hard time adjusting to the new routine but eventually we seemed to make it work. That summer we took a trip to visit Texas where her parents had just moved from Florida. We spent a great night together for our 10th anniversary in a hotel in Texas and went dancing. We had a lot more time together as my work schedule was less. The more people we had in our home working with our kids on issues the less useful my input seemed. I was not included as much in making family decisions because they all seemed to happen while I was at work, despite my objections. We tried to get our budget under control but she still had anxiety discussing spending. She continued to struggle with depression and was put on medication because she had still been harming herself. She was put on Prozac daily and anti anxiety medication as needed. He family members were not very supportive of medication which upset her but I always tried to be supportive in seeking help and continued care for both of us.

2016

We had a busy routine of kids in school now and home school and preschool and appointments for all of us. She wanted to go to church less and less. I started drinking a couple beers at night almost every day. I tried to mask my stress from her mood swings. She decided not to go to church at all anymore and focused teaching the boys about Jewish traditions exclusively which was hard for me to adjust to and confusing for the boys. I loved her and wanted to be supportive. As usual I was submissive and removed myself from the Christian church and some friendships. I feel like we lost our community at that point. We searched for a good place to have a new community with Jewish people but it was like starting over. I felt like I converted to Christianity for her when we got together and now I had to convert again, either way I would have done it for her because I loved her that much. The kids were confused by this change. After trying and failing at many synagogues we finally found one that seemed right for us.

2017

We finally had some money in savings because I kept it a secret and ended up planning a trip to visit her parents in Texas but it fell through due to lack of military flights. Instead we spent three nights away in a nice hotel resort as a family in February. We had three days of pure family time. Playing Battleship and other games in our room as a family, watching movies and eating at all the different restaurants and getting room service. Going swimming everyday in the foggy pool. I love our family and how we can have a great time together doing nothing but at the same time so much. That was so peaceful and relaxing. I wanted to keep doing things like that together as a family before our boys got too old. Shortly after this vacation she wanted to go back to school, then we bought a third vehicle so she could. Shortly after this she changed her mind about school and wanted to buy another house instead. I went along with it to please her and we practically killed ourselves trying to get the move accomplished with not much help or money. We had a good year over all. We got away for a romantic anniversary together in the summer. Just before the boys were going to start public school in the fall, her parents moved back to the area. She had anxiety with this and cut off contact with her parents and brothers for a while. Her Dad called me very upset and I tried to keep the peace until they reconciled. I was doing better with work and made up for lost progress as well as making arrangements to change jobs in the Navy to something more fitting. Since the boys started public school, I planned on leaving for Navy training in my new position after the beginning of the new year when they would be at a more settled place in their routine.

I remember when we went to the Olympic Club for our anniversary and we stayed there for a night away. We drove the long way through the countryside talking about new music that she wanted to share with me and she made notes of it on my phone notepad. We brought our own cooler and picnic that included Session Lagers and chocolate. We checked in to our room and made noisy bohemian love on the edge of the creaky bed in our small European room inches from the door. Then we went to the theater downstairs and watched the late showing of a really interesting Sci-fi movie "Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets". We took showers and slept sweetly together. We made love again in the morning before we had a delicious brunch outside on the patio. We took the long way home and drove around on new roads and found our way out of cell phone reception. We figured out the road less traveled to get back to our home. We loved being alone and away together, just one night can make such a difference and mean so much.

I remember going to the Forest Theater to see Tarzan with our boys. That was such a great time. I would love to get our boys into theater and go see them someday. I wanted to keep our dreams and goals together alive and not lose opportunity and fall short by losing our partnership.

I loved going camping in Seabeck. Loading the truck with all our gear and getting away. Archer got sick from the cowboy caviar and I had to clean him and the tent up in the night. I was glad we had each other to be a team in our marriage in that situation as with all the other times. These sorts of things are what escape a person's mind when they are determined to get a divorce.

2018

We had a lot less money than the year before, again buying a house took its toll on finances as did the boys school and after school activities. I stayed very involved taking the boys to appointments and sporting practices. We stopped going to synagogue but tried to practice Judaism at home as much as possible, which I was very supportive of and involved with. She was still depressed and talking about suicide at times. I encouraged her to get help as I always had. Eventually she was diagnosed as Bipolar 2 and manic depressive by a new provider. She started taking new medicine for this and was worried I would want to leave her. I assured her I would never leave her and that I always wanted to work on things with her and help her. I left for training in Mississippi February 8th. It was going to be hard but I thought it might be good to have some time apart from each other to miss one another and reflect on things as well as prepare for times when I would be away at sea. I got in trouble in Mississippi for giving junior personnel a ride and being negligent of people who might be underage and possibly drinking, this became strike three. I never thought this could happen. I became recommend for separation from the Navy shortly after and was stuck in Mississippi for six months instead of six weeks. She was supportive through most of it but seemed to fall into hopelessness. Money was spent by her that we didn't have without discussion. She quietly leased appliances and tires and purchased a vehicle as well as having a secret bank account and email address. I discovered through our insurance company that she wanted to leave our policy for divorce. I didn't know this and she had even told the boys she wanted a divorce before I even knew. I was caught off guard and confused. I kept trying to communicate and reason with her but she didn't want to talk. I refused to give up and wrote emails and a letter but it only seemed to push her away further. By the time I left Mississippi she had filed for divorce and a restraining order against me saying I was unstable and a threat. I couldn't return to my home. My whole life fell apart in just a couple months. I found out she had been talking to other men in the Navy and keeping more secrets. I assumed this was her way of taking control during a difficult situation. I really needed her support during this hard time of transition out of the military. I became homeless, jobless and without my family in a month. I prayed to God that given time things might change between us but it was of no use. Bipolar had consumed whatever was left of my bride and there was no turning back.

I felt that our love was not one to be cast away. Other people might not understand or agree but what we had was truly special. We may have surely needed some time and space to get counseling as well as reconfigure and repair our marriage but I didn't feel like our relationship was irretrievably broken. She was so important to me and I thought she was the love of my life and would always have my heart. I wanted to be her partner in love and life, watching our boys grow up and being there to support each other. Being that she is Bipolar I knew she will need a lot of help and I was more than willing to assist her in making sure she was taking care of herself and not throwing herself into harm's way, ensuring she sticks with a plan we agree to for consistency. I cared about her deeply and had much compassion for her. I didn't believe she was thinking this through or thinking about the future. I really wanted to look at the long and short game with her, neither seemed appealing to me if we progressed but here we are. Things are not going to be easier. She will still have to face her problems and deal with me on a regular basis for the rest of our lives no matter what happens. She can believe her lawyer when they promise she'll get the moon and stars out of this in the end but they only see half of the story. Above all they want our money. It would have been good for her to face me in person and tell me she wanted to divorce and we could have started talking about it with a counselor to figure out how that could even work. Instead she chose to avoid as much responsibility for her actions as possible by doing everything in my absence as if I am not a real person. I had to find out about it from our insurance company and was last to know.

Immediately after I hear the word divorce I looked into her cell usage history and find she has a new military boyfriend that she talks to 20-30 times a day. She felt she owed me no explanation for this and it was none of my business. A mature person would have let me know about this months before and I would have seen it coming but there was no sign until it was seemingly too late. She strayed down a dark path and never turned back.

Her proposed parenting plan was cruel and had no thought put into it. Two hours a week with supervision, no holidays but father's day? She said she’s not trying to keep me from the kids but this is the exact opposite of what she’s saying with the paperwork she filed. She seems very mixed up and still you continues to make rash and sudden choices. Like a completely bogus restraining order against me that contradicts so many facts she has stated herself on record during my Navy retention process. She was so bold as to want to change her identity and even put it in ink on the divorce paperwork as well to a whole new name. That is not the actions of a stable person. She has since changed her mind again on that just as quickly as everything else in her recent life choices. I can't trust that any decisions she is making right now are for the right reasons or that she is of sound mind. I have never seen her so conflicted and confused, grasping at straws and running scared from herself.

Using the legal system so carelessly and going back and forth makes me feel like she is not ready to be making big choices and changes for her and our family. It is very unfair that she can’t consider my feelings on things and what I wish for the boys as well. Very reckless behavior. She can’t anticipate that the day would come where she has to face me and talk to me like an adult. She wants to hide behind the legal system which only leaves much to be unresolved. Ghosting me is not really an option in a marriage of 13 years with children.

Having relationship conversations is too difficult for her at this time and she would rather avoid it and skip to divorce because she thinks that will somehow be easier. I suspect she knows she is making poor choices, possibly out of fear and lust for something new and less painful than the reality of things right now. Our marriage was nowhere close to divorce when I left. She was sad to see me leave and woke with me at 3:30 am to say goodbye, making me coffee and cookies for me to take with.

Our community and accountability seems to be gone due to the continued trend of isolation that she is drawn to. The God fearing loving committed wife I thought I had is gone or trapped inside a terrified shell of herself. She cut me off from her family members and I can't discuss my concerns about her with them either. She only seems to have community with those who are not going to discourage her from these destructive choices.

I understand we have had issues and struggles but we are no worse off than other couples during challenging times. I think that because we loved each other so much it just hurt more when things got hard. I can't accept or believe this is justified or the right choice based on the positive trend we were on before I left. This was the longest break we have ever had from each other and I think she just needed someone to be there more for her, no matter who it was. Time can heal all wounds and I hope that is true for our relationship as co-parents.

She still refuses to tell me about why she wanted a divorce or talk about anything beyond caring for the kids. I have fought the restraining and I can see my boys again but I am still not allowed to my home without her permission.

I have risen from the ashes in just a couple months. I rent a room from a nice couple from our old church and obtained a good paying job while I continue paying the household bills.

This is a really hard time, this difficult spell could have been a tool to better our relationship. I wanted to experience more beautiful memories with her. We had so many more beautiful memories and dreams left to create. This is what marriage looks like to me now as I lower the casket.
This is a timeline of the major events during my 13 year marriage. Amidst the reality, I injected all the lovely memories that refuse to leave my mind.
A Duvall Aug 2012
My grandpa loves gnomes
They’re all over the house
Sitting by the mirror and useless combs
There might be one that’s a mouse.

Ill give you two guesses at his x-mas gifts.
And every vacation we find a station
That carries the friendly red hatted myths.
He gleefully owns whole generations.

Grandpa looks like a gnome himself.
This is where we think his joy stems.
He fits in too well with his porcelain wealth.

But grandma puts up with it.
‘cause the gnome light keeps her books lit.
Jude kyrie Sep 2015
Letter to heaven

I remember when mom died grandpa.
I was so small and frightened.
You took me to your home to live with you.
I remember your unshaven face and big
brown hard working hands Grandpa.
You fixed everything with your hands.
But you fixed me with your love.

you gave me mom's old room.
You told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there
when she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not
believe in heaven Grandpa.
You said it's alright I will one day.
Heaven was a different
place for everyone.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms Grandpa.
it was always so safe with you.

I never told you Grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma were my heaven.

I know you have gone
now to your heaven.
Sat somewhere in a kitchen up there
eating food from the old country.
Grandma at the stove
mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe
before the war.

My heaven was
with you all grandpa.
I think I will
change my heaven
to yours after all.
That's all I want Grandpa
just our heaven.

I only wish
there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you .

All My Love
Jude
Jude kyrie Dec 2015
I remember you when mom died grandpa.
I was so small and frightened.
You took me to your home.
I remember your unshaven face and
brown hard working hands Grandpa.
you fixed everything with your hands.
But you fixed me with your love.

you gave me mom's old room.
You told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there.
When she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not
believe in heaven Grandpa.
You said it's alright I will one day.
Heaven was a different
place for everyone.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms Grandpa.
it was always so safe.

I never told you Grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma were my heaven.

I know you have gone
now to your heaven.
Sat in a kitchen up there
eating food from the old country.
Grandma at the stove
mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe
before the war.

My heaven was
with you all grandpa.
I think I will
change my heaven
to yours after all.
That's all I want Grandpa
just our heaven.

I only wish
there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you .

All My Love
Jude
Paula Swanson Jun 2011
Not a cloud in the sky,
Sunday chicken set to fry.
That is how I recall those Summer days.

Playing ball just for fun,
ice cream when the day is done..
Watching my freckles pop out from the suns rays

Colorful kites in the air,
Daisy chain in my hair.
Over and over in my memory it plays.

It was more than a childhood,
that Mom, Grandma, Grandpa gave to me.
It was more than a childhood.
It was a gift of, precious memories

Playing Barbie's on the porch,
Grandpa in his Bermuda shorts.
Big Band music on the stereo.

Playing tag with my brother Steve,
Ed Sullivan on T.V.
Listening while sister practiced her piano.

Swimming in our little plastic pool,
watching Grandpa work with tools.
Seems we were always having fights with pillows.

It was more than a childhood,
That Mom, Grandma, Grandpa gave to me.
It was more than a childhood.
It was a gift, of precious memories.

Slip and slides in the grass,
cold iced tea in a tall glass.
Runnin' barefoot through the neighborhood.

Gram making strawberry jam,
Hear Grandpa cheer a grand slam.
On our swing set we'd go as high as we could.

Walks down to the Rexall drug Store,
we were never, ever bored.
I know now, what back then, I never understood.

It was more than just a childhood,
that Mom, Grandma, Grandpa gave to me.
It was more than a short childhood.
It was a lifetime gift of precious memories.
Auroleus Oct 2012
Grandpa melted two squirrels together using the fat from their bodies after skinning the skin from their bellies.  They were dead before he began this project, of course.  He's a taxidermist.  
Grandpa is surely to blame for many a nightmare–
The jars of eyes and teeth collected from years of scraping corpses off the highway.
But as the Buddhists preach, I've found some blessings in his macabre pastime.  
Most of my friends shy away from the undesirable aspects of life;
Death bringing up the forefront.  
I feel that grandpa's melancholy menagerie has helped me
Cozy up to the idea that despite life's bountiful beauty,
A dark side coexists intertwined-
But darkness is not always
A bad thing...
Is it?
Tark Wain Oct 2015
It was the 25th
which meant only one thing
a trip to grandpa's house
every 25th of every month
we traveled the 10 minutes
down the gravel road
to see my grandpa
and his rocking chair

man that rocking chair
sculpted from reddish brown wood
balanced perfectly
like a pedestal
I had never sat on it
just out of respect
I admired from afar
every 25th

my grandpa was always in that chair when I arrived
rocking back and forth
and forth and back
like Galileo's pendulum
rain or shine
snow or wind
when I pulled into that driveway
my Grandpa was in that chair

it fascinated me as a kid
like he was some video game character
programmed to do this mundane task
it was familiar
it was calming
but I grew older
and thought about that chair less
along with my family

but every 25th
even on a windy day like today
I'd travel down the gravel road
to see my grandpa
when I arrived the chair was rocking
back and forth
forth and back
but my Grandpa was not sitting

— The End —