Thank you for everything.
For picking raspberries with me
and teaching me how to plant flowers.
For coming to visit when we lived so far away.
For taking Magic on long walks with me through Northwoods.
For your memories of dancing with Gram
and how lucky you felt to have her in your arms.
For sticking $5 bills in my pocket
and telling me to take a friend to get a burger.
For telling me you love me so much.
For sharing your memories of the war
and of when you were a little boy.
For being so strong when Gram died and
giving us more time with you.
For your wrinkled, tan, Florida skin.
For having such a tender heart
and inquisitive mind.
For taking my Mum mushroom picking
when she was a little girl.
For being interested, genuinely interested
in my life and how I was doing.
For having a sweet tooth.
For showing my brothers your golf swing.
For your raspy voice saying
well, how ’bout that?
For your tinted glasses and squinty eyes.
For loving my mother the way you did.
For your gentleness and sincerity.
For your love of nature.
For your scissors, fabrics, and hammers.
For your radiant, welcoming smile
that always made me feel at home.
Thank you forever for everything.
But most of all,
for finding Gram,
taking her hand,
and asking her for another dance.