A posthumus talk with my Grandfather
How can I be proud of the things you have done?
The mistakes you have made?
How can I be proud of the things you regret?
The things you too would rather forget.
The memories that haunted you and drove you to drink?
Your daughter, my mother taught me to forgive,
How, faced with adversity, she taught me how to live
She showed how love and forgiveness could always conquer all,
Her wisdom showed me clearly, mistakes are made by all
The man I knew as opa, was frail and weak and lonely
He bought me a silver ring, made a speech at my wedding
Each day burdened with regrets, he faced his demons daily
Until they took him to the darkest places, where he stood alone.
So perhaps I judge too harshly, choices I have not faced
When I reminisce about my time, I know I too
Will have regrets, and hope
That future generations will forgive,
With the clarity of hindsight those paths I preferred not to tread
Copyright © Huberta van Akkeren | Year Posted 2015