I lost a loved one almost ten years to the day.
I remember some of the memories, others have faded away.
What tears me up the most, and to you maybe the same,
Is that never again will we here, that treasured voice again.
It was my Grandfather who left us, I remember the day I was told.
I was sitting at home, with my mum, I was only nine years old.
Now something like that for a nine year old, is such a weird thing,
You know that something is wrong, because everyone around you is crying.
It wasn’t like that for me though, I had only my mum for support,
It didn’t sink in at first, but later when the evening came, she appeared very distraught,
She told me straight and didn’t hold back, and gave me a hug to ease our pains,
I cried like I had never cried before, aching inside, becoming a man in one day.
I was allowed to the funeral, for which now I shall always be grateful,
And it was there that I knew I was a child, for when it came to say the Lords prayer,
I spoke no words. I said my own words of love, to the man I take after,
As his coffin was taken away to a place behind the curtain,
I tried to help my mother and her mother, and those who were there that day,
But inside, at that moment I was being torn up.
Perhaps I was too young to understand what was going on, though I believe I wasn’t,
Maybe the hurt and discomfort passed over my little body, not ready to set down,
Could it be that I felt my Grandfathers death as a child or an adult? Who knows?
All I can say is that, for a nine year old,
I have experienced something that will last a lifetime.
Post a Comment