A contest exploring the aftermath of death. Contest ends September 10, 11:59pm. |
Olivia Wolfe I try to remember you… but I also try to forget you. While I remember, I am sad; but also when I forget. I remember your laugh… and how you always seemed to beat me in every game we ever played. I remember how every morning you would get up first and make the best breakfast in the world. There was always bacon. You made the best homemade dumplings and homemade soup. All the country dishes you learned as a child. You loved cars, and to laugh and to have fun and bacon. Yes... how you oh so loved bacon I remember the car that you loved so much. That old Model A. I loved to ride in it; dad always bribed you to sell it to him in your will. I loved how tall you were. I loved your laugh. I loved how you wrapped me in your arm and sung me around whenever you saw me. I loved your tuffs of thin white hair that played on the open plains of you scalp. I miss you Grandpa, why couldn't you stay? Why did the cold hand of death take you so quickly? I know you passed so peacefully with sleep. But I miss you more than anything in the world. I try to remember all the good times we shared. But sometimes, it becomes too hard and your memory makes me cry I hate it that I am forgetting your face, forgetting your laugh, and your smile. I don't want to forget and yet… sometimes I do. To make the hurt go away. I love you so much. I miss you even more. But to make the pain hurt less I can see you now driving you model A around heaven. It’s completely restored and you are young again. You have no pain. You have no regrets. You have no worries. I love you Grandpa. I really hope you never forget. I hope with all my heart that I never forget either. It hurts to remember but more to have forgotten. I'd rather deal with the hurt than never have the memories at all. In Memory of Jim Fuller. |