I never met either of my grandfathers;
I’ve heard a lot about them, nonetheless.
That one was kind, a gentle man, a draftsman;
The other was an alcoholic mess
I’d see their photos on the walls, in albums;
A pair of piercing eyes, so grave and sad –
But realized that I would never know them
Not in-the-flesh, the way my parents had
A carpenter who liked to drink – my mom’s dad;
I know his favorite joke, some things he said –
My mom was only nineteen when he passed, though,
From the poor home my mom had lately fled
An engineer for Kodak was my dad’s dad;
Who taught my dad’s young wife first how to drive.
A man she loved, and still calls “Pop” to these days,
Who showed her gentlemen were still alive
Why do I talk about these long gone men now?
Because I realize that all I know
About my grandfathers is in the stories
I’ve heard about them, passed from long ago
And so when my days end, let my grandchildren
Know funny things I did, or things of worth;
Let me leave them a legacy of stories
To show that I once walked
Upon the earth
= = = = =
Prompt : “Imagine yourself at the end of your life. What sort of legacy will you leave? Describe the lasting effect you want to have on the world, after you’re gone. “