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We pass them every morning as the day’s about to break
an old man and a young girl…seated by the lake.

They are sharing a moment together…a moment of solitude
and as we near them we walk softly…not wanting to intrude.

The other morning when he heard us coming…he smiled and turned his head
He told us his name was Charlie… “and this is Tess.” he said.

The next day he greeted us by name…and we were surprised we must admit
when he smiled looking out at the water….and invited us to sit.

They had no fishing poles, no equipment…so finally I said, “Hey…
Charlie, why do you and Tess sit by the water ever day?”

“At the beginning of this summer,” he said, “my wife,Tess’s grandma, passed way.
so Tess and I come to the lake to remember her each day.”

“I’ve spent my lifetime loving Tess’s Grandma
but in some ways Tess just met her…
I want her to know the kind of person her Grandma was
and I don’t want either of us to forget her.”

“We come here every morning.” Tess said.
as the the bells on the church began to chime.
“Grandpa says the best way to remember Grandma…
is one memory at a time.”

We listened to a few stories…
about how Grandma loved to bake,
how she loved to sing although a little off-key, 
and how she loved this lake.

Then we took our leave…as we were very much aware
we had infringed enough on these two…
this was their time to share.

And now we wave when we pass each morning…
as around this lake we climb…
knowing a Grandpa is sharing a Grandma with his granddaughter… 
one memory at a time.

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