Grandpa Fuzzy (January 25)

Today is your birthday and I think of you still.

Your age showed in your eyes,
in the weakness of your walk,
or as you sat in your favorite chair
and complained about the television shows where
they left nothing to the imagination anymore.

My age showed in a fleeting kiss upon your cheek
and in the way I traveled and unraveled through adolescent school days.

Now, as an adult, I miss those moments.

What I wouldn’t give to smell your hair tonic
as I bend down to give you a kiss on the cheek.
What I wouldn’t give to have you whisper “Grandpa loves you”
after I tell you I must go.

There are times when I look at my father
and I am reminded of your laughter and wisdom,
and I pray that all the grandchildren will understand
and embrace the love of a grandfather
while they still have it within their grasp.

Sometimes I cry for a chance to go back in time,
a chance to understand your outspokenness,
your life experience;
to seek your advice about my life,
my homesickness,
my slow slipping loss of youth;
I cry sometimes for that!

At night I take my rosary
and say a prayer for all my grandparents,
all of you at once,
and I find that when I most need your consolation,
it is there.
There is unconditional love coming from above,

it is constant.

You are in my memory,
you are in my blood,
you are in my heart…
a heart that soars with love above
and beyond the problems I face
and I miss you many times.

But I feel you beside me,
guiding me,
many,
many more times.

Happy Birthday Grandpa.