G-paw (Grandfather)

                          Who you were.

                                                   Your name,

                                                                              Gordon.

                                                   Birthday,

                                                                                 November 22, 1957.

                                               Your personal health number,

                                                               and your favourite sweater.

I carry your ID in my wallet.

The only thing I could bring myself to keep.

I remember you.

                          The stories you told,

                                               the ones about your life,

                                                                the obstacles you faced,

                                                                 and those you surpassed,

I used to sit with bated breath,

                                             the ones about the people you met,

                                                                 those you loved,

                                                                and those you despised.

to hear the words you chose to share.

I remember you,

                     the respect you commanded,

                                                     in your youth,

                                                     the only native on the ice,

                                                      and your killer slapshot.

                                                     40 years working for the city,

                                                     picking up trash and mowing lawns.

I wish to be as courageous,

                         the discrimination you faced,

                                                                 repeatedly told coffee was only for guests,

                                                                 dirty looks from the personnel,

                                                                  for daring to stay in a nice hotel.

                                                                Constantly fixing your basement windows,

                                                                for the audacity to have a nice house.

To face the world and still be proud.

I remember you.

                        Although,

                                     your voice is starting to fade,

                                                   the sound,

                                                  now frayed.

I wish I called you more.

                                    Your smile slowly disappears,

                                                the memory,

                                                  a souvenir.

You never smiled in photographs.

I remember you,

                         G-paw,

                         I miss you.

I miss you so much….