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Unchained Sorrow
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Culture The phone call happened. Grandpa moved onto the next adventure.
Early Friday morning, awakening about four but wife doesn't work today. I get to sleep in.
"Cousin is call, honey." I take the cell from my wife.
After his long fight, he past.
Heavy tears, quiet heart and confused spirit.
Watching the fireworks, and I think of all the times I have sat on grandpa's porch to watch fireworks.
In tradition, we don't sing, drum, or dance for a year because of mourning.
July 5th, 2016 I will pick up the poetic pen again.
For now, stay close to my wife and create art.
I wish you well my friend
My Grandpa was very important
In my life.
He was a (real) man.
That is a tough tradition.
I hate to admit it
But my tradition is to get drunk
And drown my sorrows
And pray too
For everyone else.
KS
PS I should change
only when it is gone...
We don't realize the importance until it is no longer there.
He was a great man. Good or bad, he was good to me even when we didn't agree.
Home is going to be empty for a while. He was a big part of visiting home for me.
Thank you.
Yea. I did too needed to change. Seven years ago, I would be drunk and not here.
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I am an artist of words as well as paints.
I have always had
A tough time dealing with people
I love or care about dying.
It always changes me
One way or the other.
Take care
KS
Grandpa
Was the walk, the big hand
held on route to ice cream,
the rake in a pile of leaves,
the whiskers at the head
of holiday tables.
.
Grandma loved him in spite
of all kinds of behaviors
and responses. So did we.
.
Now he is a fireworks display
seen from the front porch
remembered for the light
he shed against dark skies
and always, always
in Technicolor and High
Fedelity sound.
.
Lady A
07-30-15
313p
Thank you Lady A
That is beautiful and well written. Thank you for sharing.
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I am an artist of words as well as paints.