My grandfather was a stubborn man
with a temper, who didn't know the right
way to say, "I love you."
His smile was crooked and his hair thin,
glasses perched on his semi-pointed nose,
freckled head from his years of
growing old. He was married to his soul
mate until the day he died.
77 years wears a person shabby,
skinny, and pale. He lived longer
than any of his male predecessors.
77 years is quite a long time.
Although the man was stubborn, had
little more than a few teeth,
couldn't say three little words that
often change the world,
I know he thought of me often,
sitting in his room or on his sofa,
watching pointless news or
reruns of Maguyver,
his mutt dog curled up beside him.
Grandpa, Jesus welcomed you into
his kingdom sometime this week.
You were ready to go, I know.
I want to tell you that I loved you,
despite your faults and shortcomings.
I'll miss you.
8 Years Later
1 month ago
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