We all called him Boppa

I wrote a really lovely post, and then I accidentally quit Firefox. I've been wanting to say, I miss Grandpa/Boppa, and Granny too. I will hold our shared memories in my heart and mind, and I am grateful to have so many wonderful memories. Photographs like these are also a treasure.




I wrote the following poem as part of my senior project in college. It was meant to be snapshots of different family members, including Grandpa.

Grandpa

I want to ask if you remember
the visits when I was small:
the soft, damp kisses you gave me,
and my high-pitched voice calling “Hi Boppa!”
while you aimed the video camera.
You eventually turned it to the sky, filming
white wisps and swirls,
murmuring about the temperature and wind.
Clouds used to fascinate you.
Now they are only proof of government
conspiracy -- influencing the atmosphere,
causing sickness. You used to laugh
more easily, you used to barbecue
hamburgers in a wheelbarrow
and play whiffleball with all us grandchildren,
wearing your white cotton undershirt,
cut-off shorts and brown rubber sandals.
When I see you now and you refuse to hug,
almost refuse to shake hands --
“Hollywood’s perversion of touch,” you say --
I want you to remember.
I want to grasp your hands, shaking
as they handle your knife and fork,
and hold them.

© 2003 April K Szuch

Comments

[Mom]

Thank you, my darling daughter. I just mentioned yesterday to Dad that I wanted to get a memorial for Grandpa to be placed next to Granny's at the Cancer Garden at St Mary's but I wasn't sure. Now, I am. Many wonderful memories that, with time, will erase the sad ones.

[Bill]

Your mother told me about your post, then I read it....Very Powerful! I was surprised by my emotional reaction. Thank you for being who you are and for your abililty to put into words those feelings.