Grandpa
Day by day the life support system drags life out of Grandpa,
He sits and weeps softly, as distinguished men sometimes do.
Seeing the machine breath for her,
Would tear even ‘the best’ man apart.
As we struggle from letting him slip by us,
Her counted days continue to fly.
His choice decided for a while now,
Planned over and over in his mind.
Her last days no longer exist,
We knew sooner or later,
But who could have guessed?
Grandpa sits alone in his easy chair,
Patiently waiting for the pills to set in.
“It won’t be long.” He whispers,
Gazing at her picture, he departs the world with a smile…
© 2009 Tigra