Grand

My Grandfather built a grand house as strong and sturdy as He
Poured the foundation nearly a lifetime ago
Bags of concrete He carried on His back
Generations held together inside

A bench in the dining room is fastened to the wall
Floating against the wall and strong as a tree
Babies turned to parents, whose babies turned to parents
Whose babies run and jump and eat on that floating bench like all those before them

I once fell from the roof of the house with nobody near
Hanging by the tips of my fingers, the ground a grand distance below my small body
Afraid for my life, I struggled to hold on
With ease He reached up to save me and lowered me safely
I took comfort in the scolding that followed

He built a second garage because one wasn’t enough
Bloodied and scarred, His bear hands worked without pause
Grizzly strong words, authoritative and wise
One gusty day He climbed the family elm just to trim the branches
That’s when they told my Grandfather, it’s time to slow down old man


Thick-skinned and weathered, His grand house fears nothing
Only peach coloured house on the block
Children, grandchildren and He painted the rings
But the latest layer of paint is not peach, it is a faded yellow instead
And it has been applied by a contractor whose name I’ll never know

Grandfather stood up from a conversation we recently had
Put on His coat and said He was gonna’ be late for work
Afraid to break the news, I told him He’d been retired for 20 years
“Fired?”
He sat down in disbelief, “Why would they fire me?”

Slow down, old man was more than a request
It was His last era's beginning
An era he didn't much care for
His powerful voice became weak and uncertain
Mourning began before he was gone

Grandfather earned his peace.