Hurry,
Hurry before it’s over.
All that is going through my mind is “ He can't be gone, not yet.”
Tell mom, run quick, be fast,
Dont stop, dont look back.

I drive tasting the salt glide across my lips.
Try to stay strong for family but fail.
I crash into my father first, he wraps one arm around me and the other one around Dakota.

A small white room, fifteen people breathing,
Gathered around one breathless person-- Grandpa,
We stand, wait for a heartbeat that won’t come
Memories flow--
Bar fights and fishing on the river, talks about how much we love Grandma, getting into trouble by scaring her with his turkey calls or putting saran wrap on the doorway hoping to catch her, and always picking on eachother with our lame names and terrible comebacks.
I look into his blank blue eyes
Staring, never to see the world again.

I leave hand in hand with my Grandmother,
I drive to her now lifeless home because now the life has died.
I sit in his chair with his scent of beer and chewing tobacco, I feel his embrace as I lay back falling asleep.

Now forever in the darkness as his bright shining light goes out.

Taps play and guns shoot in the background, I block it all and think of all the wise words that has come from his years of life. “Life is like toilet paper, in the beginning it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere but once you get to the end you want to savor every last piece”