These Insufficient Words

For My Great-Grandpa

I remember 

your beautiful, simple smile, 

the way it lit up the room.

I remember

your imitations of Donald Duck,

how the funny sounds would always make me giggle.

I remember

your missing finger,

and hearing about how you lost it when you were logging.

I remember

your stories,

of your family and what life was like back then.

I remember 

your wise advice,

when you told me to love with all I have.

I remember 

visiting you in the nursing home,

bringing you flowers to brighten up that plain place.

I remember 

you and Great-Grandma, 

the way you always held hands when we came to visit you, 

and the way you looked at her.

I remember 

how sad you were when she died,

the way your smile was never quite the same, 

and how your hand always seemed so lonely without hers to hold.

I remember

how your mind changed without Great-Grandma to remind you of things,

and how you soon couldn't remember names or faces.

I remember

when you refused to eat, sleep, and see other people,

how you just lost the will to live.

I remember,

but you didn't. 

I remember 

the day my mother told me you'd passed away.

November 2, 2016.

I knew you were happier with your one true love,

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

It still hurts, a year later.

I remember  

a lot of things. 

But mostly, 

I remember

you.

I miss you. 

I'll never forget you.

I love you, Great-Grandpa. 

Love, 

your great-granddaughter.

LaMar Dew

1929-2016