A Child's View of Death
A Child’s View of Death
People say now that Grandpa was thin
But he had plump cheeks; cancer had set in
Each Sunday penny candy in my hand he’d place
And with rugged hands he’d embrace my face
To an impetuous toddler, his cigars smelled foul
But I don’t remember him ever sporting a scowl
On the way to mass my hand he’d squeeze
And no one ever mentioned his disease
But I’ll not forget the way mama cried
When she hugged me and said Grandpa had died
Though yellow tulips bloomed outside
I entered that parlor where emotions ran high
Grandpa looked peaceful, like he was asleep
I walked softly toward him, not making a peep
Where was that smile I’d come to expect
Not one movement could I detect
It can cause harm taking preschoolers to funerals
Death viewings can be the most frightening rituals
Fear lingered for months as I dreamt of him
Lying in a coffin, his skin cold and face grim
Children should remember those who have passed
Alive and happy, the way they’d seen them last
A fear of death plagued me for many years
I couldn’t accept that good people disappear
From our lives, to be buried in the ground
In thoughts of this loss, my spirits drowned
It wasn’t till later I realized the eternal life of souls
And that in both forms of life, we each have our roles
Be sure to tell little ones of God’s special home
And how our deceased loved ones sit by His throne
In coming to terms with this revelation
I learned to see death as a new life’s creation
*For Lay's "Darkest Childhood Memory" Challenge
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