Each of the grandkids have had an opportunity to "interview" Papa on tape, something that they can cherish down the road. Because Allie had a bad cough when Nicole & James did their taping, she had to wait to do hers. Today was her turn. Because Dad is more tired, she decided to limit the questions and read him a poem. This is a poem she found on the internet and changed a bit to make just right. (Apologies to the poet, we looked but couldn't find a source to credit.)
Walking with Papa
I like to walk with Papa,
his steps are short like mine.
He doesn't say "Now hurry up,"
He always takes his time.
I like to walk with Papa,
his eyes see things like mine
~ Wee pebbles bright,
a funny cloud,
half hidden drops of dew.
Most people have to hurry,
they do not stop and see
~ I'm glad that God made Papa.
Unrushed , and young like me.
Allie, Your papa spent lots of time rocking and cuddling you when you were a baby. Your body will remember that comfort even when your mind forgets. He loves watching you grow and change. He is so proud of you. Now you are getting to be a young lady, and the lines are getting taller and taller on our kitchen wall. He will always be an important part of your life because he has loved you very much. He will continue to watch over you with love and a quiet presence all of your life. You will always be his first grandchild. And, that is very special.
I had a very different Papa. Much more troubled, not very dependable or centered. He died 10 years ago, at the age of 59. The poem (and this process you're going through) has reminded me of him. He saw things like I did, too, in a way that was often childlike, some might say immature. I thought it was delightful. I still have the best of him with me. Thank you for reminding me.
Sherri
Posted by: Sherri at May 9, 2005 06:36 PM