I remember
your beautiful, simple smile,
the way it lit up the room.
I remember
your imitations of Donald Duck,
how the funny sounds would always make me giggle.
I remember
your missing finger,
and hearing about how you lost it when you were logging.
I remember
your stories,
of your family and what life was like back then.
I remember
your wise advice,
when you told me to love with all I have.
I remember
visiting you in the nursing home,
bringing you flowers to brighten up that plain place.
I remember
you and Great-Grandma,
the way you always held hands when we came to visit you,
and the way you looked at her.
I remember
how sad you were when she died,
the way your smile was never quite the same,
and how your hand always seemed so lonely without hers to hold.
I remember
how your mind changed without Great-Grandma to remind you of things,
and how you soon couldn't remember names or faces.
I remember
when you refused to eat, sleep, and see other people,
how you just lost the will to live.
I remember,
but you didn't.
I remember
the day my mother told me you'd passed away.
November 2, 2016.
I knew you were happier with your one true love,
But that didn't make it hurt any less.
It still hurts, a year later.
I remember
a lot of things.
But mostly,
I remember
you.
I miss you.
I'll never forget you.
I love you, Great-Grandpa.
Love,
your great-granddaughter.
LaMar Dew
1929-2016
YOU ARE READING
These Insufficient Words
PoetryPoetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. -Robert Frost This is my own collection of thoughts. My own stories, through the deepest sorrow and highest peaks of happiness I've had in my rather brief life, and s...