One More Day

Today my grandfather would have been 100.  As a child I was always quite sure he would live to be 100, but life didn't quite work out that way.  Aren't superheroes supposed to be around forever?  I always think of Grandpa this time of year.  You see, Grandpa and I nearly shared a birthday.  He was born on the 22nd of January, and I arrived many years later on the 23rd.  For years we'd share birthday cake my grandma had prepared, take turns buying dinner out, and celebrate our birthdays together.  I consider myself fortunate to have celebrated so many birthdays with him.  Today I remember him with this poem.       

Dwight Pierce:
January 22, 1913 - December 12, 2001

time slips by quickly
we are left 
holding onto the memories 
we've captured
like treasure buried
deep within us...




One More Day
What I wouldn't do...

for one more day in his workshop
sawing, hammering, and straightening wire
his patient explanation
helping me to learn

for one more glass of chocolate milk
while he slowly sips his coffee
my feet dangling from my chair
as we enjoy each other's company

for one more hand of Old Maid
as he rolls his eyes and sucks in his cheeks
pretending he has her in his hand
making us all laugh

for one more birthday dinner
it wouldn't matter whose turn it was to buy
a new restaurant each year
celebrating our birthdays together

for one more ride in his machine (his word for his car)
joking about his slow, careful driving
clapping with each mailbox we pass
begging him to play our favorite stations

for one more evening on his back porch
rocking gently back and forth
catching up on life
knowing there is no better place to be

What I wouldn't do to walk in
to see his hat sitting on the stand
to hear his voice in a nearby room
to share another day
                  another hour
                        another moment
                                   with him.