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| Gram and Gramp. And two of my siblings . . . |
Gram was in the kitchen, cooking so efficiently,
Gramp was in his easy chair and I was on his knee.
Their kindly ways and gentle spirits touched so tenderly,
Way back in the early days of Gram and Gramp . . . and me.
He was a rancher, cattleman; and honest to a 'T'.
She helped and worked right by his side and served so faithfully.
The two of them raised children strong and loved their family,
E'en before those early days of Gram and Gramp . . . and me.
When I was four, my Grampa died; he passed on peacefully,
Gram carried on as best she could, preserved his legacy.
But when I stop and think at bit, I cannot help but see,
There weren't enough of those early days of Gram and Gramp . . . and me.
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| My own Gram and Gramp` Stringam on their 50th wedding anniversary |
And now I'm blubbering.
ReplyDeleteMe, too. Sigh.
DeleteAnd never having known any of my grandparents I am a bit misty too.
ReplyDeleteThey simply leave us too soon!
DeleteLove your poem and memories even though there aren't enough of them.
ReplyDeleteI never knew any of my grandparents, nor any other relatives either, since we left Germany when I was just six months old. I never felt like I missed out on something though.
You built a good life without them. Well done!
DeleteI wish somehow my grandparents (some of them at least) were available for me to talk to now that I'm an adult. I didn't appreciate them enough when I was a kid.
ReplyDeleteIsn't that the truth?! We never appreciate people when we're young. We just take for granted they will always be there!
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