A Lingering Farewell
Goodbye Grandmere
I already said my goodbyes.
I said goodbye with that last crib peg,
and you told me you let me win.
You never let anyone win.
None of us do,
too much of you within our code.
I said goodbye, with the names
you could no longer remember,
the voices you'd forgotten.
I said goodbye as I listened to you
slipping back into your mother tongue.
Then none at all.
I said goodbye, as it ate away at you.
The deterioration, the regression
Chipping away at who we used to know.
The distance and faith
kept us apart for so long.
A rift nearly too late mended
by long car trips,
perfectly made crepes,
and final understanding.
Still I never really knew you.
Was never very close.
Distance and disease saw to that.
So I do not grieve for myself,
but for your progeny.
My patriarch
who truly knew you,
whom you raised
the best you knew how.
His stories and tales
were my closest link
to knowing you.
The fog and the rosary,
failed flambe, bridge,
and the trunk.
The memories built
by my father and time,
despite the distance divide.
Though not mine,
they’re held dearly.
As we all say goodbye.
©Nicholas B Girard 2020
