peppermints with pepere | Teen Ink

peppermints with pepere

December 22, 2016
By poke_maniac1 BRONZE, Arlington, Massachusetts
poke_maniac1 BRONZE, Arlington, Massachusetts
4 articles 0 photos 3 comments

The aroma of sweet mint floods my nostrils, soothing me.
P?p?re had a ragged beard, and a calm, wizened face
So much knowledge and experience in his skin.
His eyes were brown, like murky water,  unknown depths of wisdom lurking underneath.
His laugh, hardy, his voice, raspy.
He always had a smile on his face, and a pink peppermint of course.
I remember a time when he pretended that a bee was with us,
Now, I have to pretend that he’s with us.
His sweet kisses, and a whiff of his peppermint breath is all I need.

Education is not the preparation for life, education is life.
He dropped out of high school to work for his family, my family,
And it was just M?m?re and P?p?re together, clinging to each other,
Trying to stay afloat in the sea, the world.
And they succeeded.
He worked three jobs, laboring day and night,
Eyelids slipping like curtains at the end of a play, but he stayed strong.
He found a way to break through any obstacle, that is what he taught me.
Like a gentle giant, wide grin, his arms open, always ready for me.

After he dropped out, my mom was born, and then my aunt.
Auntie was born three months early.
To help M?m?re with Bren, he happily stopped racing.
Some nights after Bren went to sleep, he let Mom get up.
Together they watched yogi bear in black and white.
He had so many tea parties with Mom,
Pretending they were royalty, drinking with their pinkies held up.
Laughing when she laughed, having fun together.
Once he was gone, we cried together.

When he pretended that there was a bee in my ear, I really thought there was.
And now that he’s not here, I long for another moment,
Just one more time, just to say goodbye.
When the trumpets sounded in honor of the dead, a tear rolled down my cheek.
So many people, so many tears, he wouldn’t want us to grieve.
He would rather we be grateful for the time that we had together,
To love him, and others, long after he is gone.
So if his death must have happened, I’m glad it wasn't in a hospital bed,
Because if I knew it was going to happen, I would never let go.


The author's comments:

This is a poem in tribute to my late grandfather (pepere).

Also pepere means grandfather in french.


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