I never prayed for my grandfather.
People come up to me and hug me and say how much I must miss him
and ask, "Were you close to him?"
When I say, "No", they look at me strangely and walk away
politely, quickly.
He died.
Yesterday he had a heart attack getting out of his car in his own driveway
my dad spent half an hour trying to bring him back
and he did
then he died again.
The ambulance came in an hour
much too late.
He was an old man, he had to have been ready to go, anyway.
I never prayed for him, never even though about him
until now
until he was already dead on the ground.
My grandfather died yesterday
and I know he wasn't Christian
even though I only lived next door.
** My book of poetry is now available at amazon: http://amzn.to/1aoT3T6 **
Dixie's Wasteland 
Interesting poem. Sad. Sad because you didn’t know him/ Sad because people couldn’t accept your honest answer to their question regarding your closeness. Sad because we are come into this world so ready to love, to interact, to give and we do all of this and in the end we leave this earth as though we never were. Not because we were no good people. Not because we didn’t care. Just that while we are young we think we have to do nothing to keep family relations because they are just there and always have been. When we are young , the older people around us keep family relations together and connect us to family in general. When we get older , communication is harder and we look to the young to stay in touch with us , keep family relations going. When we were young the old remembered us and when we get old we want to be remembered by the young. Sadly this does not always happen. but what to do?? Who is responsible? Who , but life , can truly teach us?!
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I love your comment. It’s pure poetry. 🙂
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