The Little Things

Granddaddy, I can remember
the layout of your store;
with rods and reels, outboard motors,
sleek fishing lures, and more.

The way you treated customers,
I’d not have tried to bet
whether one was a years-long friend
or someone you’d just met.

I’ve some of your sense of humor –
though I don’t pull your pranks –
and I can think of other things
for which I owe you thanks.

I saw when dealing with people
to stop, listen, and hear;
and even on my grumpy days
to greet them with good cheer.

And one final useful habit
I picked up long ago:
retaining those “little details”
no one else seems to know.

7 comments

  1. Thank you Sarah. As I’m sure you guessed, Granddaddy is the same person in both of these poems. While some of my relatives were at pains to make sure I knew he was “only” my step–grandfather, I never cared about that. He could not have been a more real grandfather had he been a blood relation.

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  2. Hi Michael

    Beautiful remembrance regarding your “grand dad”. You capture his character with those “little details” that matter. The voice in this poem has a quiet reverence that all of us who remembers a beloved parent or grandparent can relate to. Thank you so much for posting this one!

    much enjoyed!
    Wendy

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