I remember his countenance once rustic with years
Sunken like treasures upon Gramps prunish and hard spent face
And the sing song of weathered coinage as he reached into pockets
Sparking to ignite the candle of his own childlike fire
Ah yes, how I remember Gramps!
Now, antiquity reminds me of my own
And the potential for legacy I might leave behind
In Gramps timeless yet invisible wake
He never could speak it seemed
A muted muttering drawl at his eighty something call,
Out of whack yet in tact
And still I understood every intent
His sunken fading eyes had ever spent forth
For who was Gramps really but everyone he’d ever blessed
And who were we therefore but pinnacles to his greater subservient heart
A timely suit jacket draped across his frail and hunched over shoulders
And the smell of decay slathered in Old Spice
Always seemed to permeate my outspoken youth
Beckoning an embarrassment only a child of such inflexible innocence
Could come away with unscathed
“You smell funny Grampa”
Leaving Gramps but only to chuckle and say in his own humble way,
“Ah so cute he is and so honest in his ways”
And so here I sit some forty years later
With no more an inclination than I at five
The reality of time and of its perception
No more or less than the perception of memory I’ve to draw upon this day
Still, both find me, as each has led me back to him and his giving ways
Dear old man, ching-a-di-ching Gramps is here to give his love away
And brings us cheer with his never forgotten smile
And so the tears are new this moment now
In remembrance of a spirit far too fleeting
And as I weep hardily for you dear sir
I bequeath to you my love dear Gramps
Thus for all whom you have touched I say:
“We love you Gramps and miss you so
I’ll be sure to let tomorrow know
How no words did grace us through muted speech
Yet through giving eyes no love was lost
As we’ve said our good byes and bid you adieu
For each time we remember we breathe you anew”
Ching-a-di-ching Gramps
Upon having read a couple of well respected Redbubble friend’s writings (Lisa and Leon) I got to thinking and reflecting upon a couple of former memories that had left an indelible mark upon me.
Hence I decided to write this piece about my grand father. Funny the emotions come flooding back from 40 years ago and leave you feeling as though you’d only just lost the one you love.
I always remember Gramps handing out change to us every time he was around. And I also remember how it seemed he had lost his ability to talk for some reason.
I suppose it was a stroke or something. I’ll have to ask mom about that one in any regard.
This is sort of a poem within a poem as you’ll see by the poem at the end.
I hope you enjoy one of my fondest childhood memories of Gramps…..
Helen Bascom KMA, 4 months ago
*And the smell of decay slathered in Old Spice *
So much like my own grandpa. Wonderful, sensitive writing.
Judi Taylor, 4 months ago
Awww … I never had a grandpa but now I wish I had. He was a treasure worth remembering. He will live on in your memories of him forever which is the highest honor you can give him. So sweet, Steve.
Leon Walker, 4 months ago
Steve this is fantastic!!! Real experiences are packed with emotion and are the source of tremendous inspiration. You have reached back and drawn forth his soul. It’s still with you, you know… You have created a wonder legacy for your family to appreciate and one that will bring you many blessings. This is just another of your many excellent works!!! Good for you man!!!
helene ruiz, 4 months ago
wow….
LisaG, 4 months ago
Tender and innocent – I could see your gramps through your five year old eyes with your 40-something admiration.
Beautifully written, Steve
Symmetry44 in reply to Helen Bascom KMA’s comment, 4 months ago
My dad still wears the Old Spice and it reminds me of Gramps as well.
Symmetry44 in reply to Judi Taylor’s comment, 4 months ago
Thank you PAgal. It’s not always easy to write of loved ones, but it’s something I feel must be done.
Symmetry44 in reply to Leon Walker’s comment, 4 months ago
Thank you Leon. You are quite the inspiration with your great talent. Thank you for the kind words brother…..
Symmetry44 in reply to helene ruiz’s comment, 4 months ago
Thank you Helene…Hoping the “wow” was a good thing lol…...
Symmetry44 in reply to LisaG’s comment, 4 months ago
He was and is a treasure Lisa as are the memories of him. Thank you as always dear for your uplifting words…
Helen Bascom KMA, 4 months ago
Oh yeah very good.
helene ruiz, 4 months ago
wow…..of course its a good thing!
Thomas Josiah ..., 4 months ago
You write well….with thought
Symmetry44 in reply to Thomas Josiah Chappelle’s comment, 4 months ago
Thank you for the comment Tom. Believe me when I tell you it is always appreciated.
flipteez, 4 months ago
I was grandads little girl. I lost him just after my 5th birthday & I can smell his pipe right now!
I only wish I could pack it one more time….....
I moved to Broadford a few years ago & my ironic full circle has my sons going to the same school he did in 1927 & now when I need a good cry or I want to celebrate good news or just say hi I walk around to a beautiful little cemetry & I pretend to prop up on his knee & pack his pipe…You have greatly inspired me & I can’t wait til I get to share my grandad with you…..thankyou dear friend…....
Symmetry44 in reply to flipteez’s comment, 4 months ago
Wow flip you about made me cry for Pete’s sake. Thank you for inspiring me by your words sweetie. You really are beautiful in every way.
Del Millar, 4 months ago
I love your heartfelt tender prose
Beautifully written, timeless, evocative
flipteez, 3 months ago
Missing your words MR Symmetry
Symmetry44 in reply to flipteez’s comment, 3 months ago
Back at you my beautiful friend. I’ll be back when work slows down. I need my inspiration and work ain’t it! lol
Nicole Ryan, 2 months ago
beautiful
We love you Gramps and miss you so
I’ll be sure to let tomorrow know
that’s special xx
Symmetry44 in reply to Nicole Ryan’s comment, 2 months ago
Thank you for the great comment Nicole. Funny how as we write these pieces we feel as though those we’ve lost have only just passed away.
In my case Gramps had died some 40 years ago, but I so remember him as if it were yesterday.
That’s the beauty of writing. It brings to light the emotions of yesterday anew today.