On This Day

Seventy-seven and nearly-a-half Julys were amongst his keeping, though only thirteen Mays were amongst mine, and it was a Saturday, and we were called and told that Alhzeimers had won, and we without a grandpa. I only ever got so close as to hug him once or twice that I can remember, and that with great fear--not that he was big and fearsome, but stern and grim and years of battling the world against my tender few... yet how it is that I cried so, and that September 22 never creeps out of the morning mist but I recall a grandpa who I never saw except he wrapped in mystery and gruff whiskers and I in shyness and distance. And so I think of those I know dearly--far away--and with much much fondness.