Resilience

Tell me,
oh loved one,
grandson,

do you know how I cared?

As you said your goodbyes,
I removed
myself,
blending
into the
shadows.

I wonder
about
your life
as you lay
in the quiet
of the side room.

Yet three months
ago
you were the
laughter
of the bay.

Being Irish
was not just
a personality-
it was our connection.

Who knew

in those three weeks,
the brown notes,
black ink,
set at the top desk
for someone
to complete
your ending,
would bring me to tears?

Resilience was meant to be built,
yet I carry your accent with me

And it breaks me,

for every word I speak,

I hear you.