GRANDAD by Barry Mowles

(Grandad – a short story poem…or whatever.. :))

It’s Monday the 17th of July, 1995, I sit on the sofa reading the paper, as my beautiful Wife walks in with my cup of tea;
I see butterflies fluttering outside in the morning sun, as I look down the garden checking out my Avery.

My Wife and I make plans for my retirement, which is just over a week away;
After a lifetime of working, I wonder just how I will spend each and every single day.

My Wife truly is my other half, after a lifetime together we are no longer two people, we are bonded as one;
My Wife fussing around making cheese straws, as we prepare a welcome for my Grandson.

I watch on smiling, as she runs the Hoover across the floor;
The doorbell echoes through the hallway, it’s my Grandson waiting patiently at the door.

He has grown so big, as I offer him a seat;
My Wife is still fussing, as she offers him the entire kitchen to eat.

We laugh and talk for the day, catching a moment in time;
My Grandson is just like me, as I look into his eyes I see a legacy which is mine.

I say “we will have Fish and Chips for dinner, why don’t you stay and have tea with us”;
My Grandson replies “thank you, but I am going out with my friends tonight, and it won’t be long before I catch the homeward bound bus”.

I walk with him to the bus stop, whilst I push my bike, so I can fetch home our tea;
As he hugs me goodbye I whisper, “Don’t leave it so long, before you come back and see me”.

He boards the bus and runs to the back, so he can wave me goodbye;
As the bus pulls away, tears start to fall from the sky.

I get our dinner and quickly ride home, trying to get out of the rain;
As we sit eating our Fish and Chips, my chest feels discomfort, which then turns into pain.

My Wife looks worried as she says “darling, are you alright”, I tremble out “I will be fine, I think I just need something to drink”;
As she runs into the kitchen, I feel my heart squeeze real tight, as my body starts to sink.

My plate smashes down onto the floor, as my Wife rushes back in, lights flash past my life;
I grab my chest, as I crash down to the floor, I see heaven through the eyes of my angelic Wife.

Everything is going dark, tears fall from my eyes, as I don’t want to say goodbye to my love;
I hold my Wife’s hand, whispering “I love you”, as my soul rises up into the beautiful blue skies above.

I write this letter from the heavens, watching over a family who would make any man proud;
I seal this letter with a kiss, as I watch it float down from my cloud.

BARRY MOWLES ©2011

 

 

 

To everyone who has lost someone, smile: they are watching from the heavens… You might think you have lost them

but no, they are in a far better place where the troubles of this world torture them no more. More, they are smiling their love

all the way to you. Be peaceful… it is well.  Lu dedoo, S’