Watercolor by Pat Morgan |
A
widower with no children,
Meets
and marries my mother
Becoming
her constant, devoted companion.
We
become his children and grandchildren.
His
brother’s family resents
Being
displaced, no longer
Beneficiaries
of his warmth
And
string-tied boxes of baked goods.
Who
will remember David?
My
children delight in his company,
The
only grandfather they know.
They
grow up and if they think of him,
They
don’t say.
Confused,
he calls me looking for my mother,
Unaware
she’s home and he’s
Dying
in a veteran’s hospital.
He
is cremated, ashes scattered.
Who
will remember David?
My
mother continues living
In
the condominium they shared,
When
she dies at ninety
We
bury her next to my father.
But
who will remember David?
Beautiful! Thank you Richard
ReplyDeleteI remember him with his Sergio Valente jeans and warm smile. I remember him calling my Grandmother Princess and treating her as such. I remember him as a great and loving Grandfather.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful, albeit somewhat sad, tribute to a man who sounds respected and respectful, gracious and grateful, full of love and loved.
ReplyDelete