My Grandfather.
Showing posts with label Grandfather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grandfather. Show all posts
Monday, February 16, 2026
Wednesday, December 30, 2020
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Thanksgiving wish and letter to my Grandfather
Thanksgiving Wish
Wish you and Yours a happy, healthy Thanksgiving.
It is a US holiday with a good spirit behind it.
Food, friends, family, and a letter to my Grandfather,
as I recall past Thanksgivings with Mom, Dad, the family they created...
Dear Grandfather Carl Lindbeck,
Who departed the material plane sometime in 1930,
the beginning of the Great depression.
I am writing to tell you that I am surviving the century that you would not believe.
Since 1930 a lot has happened.
I think it is odd that you give me characteristics that the source is unknown to me.
Strange that from time to time I talk about you.
You are a reality to me through stories told to me by my mother who only knew you as a young child.
Would you know how much she has suffered? The loss of a father, a legend she passed on to me.
The death of a friend's twin and a best friend and other friends and family,
now Mom,
renews my thoughts of those I have lost this and last century.
You are the first.
Creator of the unit born in my Mother that became me.
Now I write to you,
hoping your retrospection will light up my way.
Technically, of course, My Mother (your daughter), was born with the egg which became me.
Therefore, am I born with hers?
So did I hear your voice on some hot July night saying,
Happy Birthday Betz,
and feel the warmth flow in a little girl
soon to be replaced with
cold fear and dread.
It was, of course, the apples that made me think of that.
Wish you and Yours a happy, healthy Thanksgiving.
It is a US holiday with a good spirit behind it.
Food, friends, family, and a letter to my Grandfather,
as I recall past Thanksgivings with Mom, Dad, the family they created...
Dear Grandfather Carl Lindbeck,
Who departed the material plane sometime in 1930,
the beginning of the Great depression.
I am writing to tell you that I am surviving the century that you would not believe.
Since 1930 a lot has happened.
I think it is odd that you give me characteristics that the source is unknown to me.
Strange that from time to time I talk about you.
You are a reality to me through stories told to me by my mother who only knew you as a young child.
Would you know how much she has suffered? The loss of a father, a legend she passed on to me.
The death of a friend's twin and a best friend and other friends and family,
now Mom,
renews my thoughts of those I have lost this and last century.
You are the first.
Creator of the unit born in my Mother that became me.
Now I write to you,
hoping your retrospection will light up my way.
Technically, of course, My Mother (your daughter), was born with the egg which became me.
Therefore, am I born with hers?
So did I hear your voice on some hot July night saying,
Happy Birthday Betz,
and feel the warmth flow in a little girl
soon to be replaced with
cold fear and dread.
It was, of course, the apples that made me think of that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)