Buddies, Pals.

Buddies forever, is what he promised me. I was only 10 years old, He’d be here for eternity. My buddy was my grandpa, we’d work down on the farm. My buddy was a good friend, he’d keep me safe from harm. But you see, my buddy, he was sick, not just with a cold or the flu. You see, my buddy, had cancer but told me not to feel blue. I was in grade 4 that year. Mom said I wouldn’t want to see him that way. Lying in the hospital bed, She’d knew I’d want to stay. But I visited him every week, We’d laugh and joke around. I never knew if the next time I’d visit, if he’d be anywhere to be found. When I left his bedside that night, Goodbye is what I said. He told me it wasn’t that time yet, So we said C’ya later, instead. The last time that I saw him, He was in the ICU. I told him jokes, and hugged him, but he was looking bad, I didn’t know what to do. I said my usual C’ya later, But something told me to do more. I kissed him on the forehead, and then headed for the door. I didn’t know that night would be my final moments with my friend. After all, he said we’d be pals, buddy’s til the end. While we sat in that cold church, I would not cry a tear. I just asked where grandpa was, He'd promise he'd always be here. We proceeded to the Cemetary, Where it felt all too real. I walked up beside your new 'bed' and that's precisely where I'd kneel. Everyone was watching, As I opened my mouth to speak. I said, "C'ya later Grandpa" As a tear rolled down my cheek. It seems these days I visit him, Less and less each year. But I know he’s always with me, he always feels so near. He’s not really where we left him. When he left, his spirit grew. It’s watching over all of us. My buddy’s making sure, I’m never blue.