June 6, 2012
By Emily Ford SILVER, Bellingham, Washington
Emily Ford SILVER, Bellingham, Washington
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I beg him to wait,
Until I am ready for him to leave
Although I know I will never be

His large hand that once held my small one
Is now motionless and lifeless, laying still
My hand caresses what used to be
Though it is fading under my hand

My long brown hair flies freely behind me
My chubby child hands grip the grey wheel
We ride the lawn mower towards the tall, dying grass
He belts a loud, healthy laugh

Now, the IV keeps his chest rising and falling
Though it is faint and uneven
All I wish I could do, and learn
Too late

We all knew it was coming, but
We wish it didn’t have to.
Not always fair when this happens,
It seems to make us stronger

I still miss,
My grandpa

The author's comments:
This poem was overall very important and meaningful for me to write. I spent a lot of time in it, which was difficult emotionally but I feel really good about how it turned out. I wanted a way to show how my family and myself felt but also use imagery to have a happy flashback and show myself the happy times we had when he was healthy.

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