I still remember the way he smiled –
that old, wrinkled, tired smile –
whenever he saw me
I still remember that
even though I hated God and church and Christians
I would still attend mass on Sundays
so he would be proud of me
I still remember all of his jokes
(I hope I do them justice)
and how he still knew so many things
despite his age
(he was 39 for 45 years straight)
how I was always impressed
with his medals
(although he never talked about them)
and his deaconate
(although I despised his religion)
I still remember how he smelled
that old man smell
which permeated his house
and that aura of comfort
that surrounded him
and everything he touched
he told me once
that if you put butter
and salt
and pepper
on beets, they taste like corn
and if you put butter
and salt
and pepper
on corn, it tastes like beets
I’ve never eaten either another way since
(it’s not true)
I still remember the day we went fishing
with live bait –
minnows –
but I’ll be damned if I could
drive a metal hook through its heart
and so let the whole lot go
I still remember how I’d play for hours
with my fathers old toys
that he still kept in his attic
when we went down to visit
and I still remember how I was asked
if I wanted to go visit
Christmas, two years ago
but I had things to do
and I’d see him again, right?
right?
three months later
a hundred old women I didn’t know
told me how much I looked like he did
in 1931

goodnight, grampa

09/23/2001

Posted on 09/23/2001
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