Just the thought of them, makes me teary eyed.
That I knew them, fills me with a sense of pride.
They were simply hard working everyday people.
To my knowledge, except for Beatrice who turned 101
this year, very few of their generation are still among us.
People like Mon, Tanny, Betty, Mary, Jeff, Sam, and Earl.
Friends of my parents; to me, they are the greatest generation.
People of that Great Generation were born between 1901 and 1927;
men like my father, born in 1905; women like my mother, born in 1927.
They either fought on the front lines of war, or equipped others to fight.
They held back the evil forces of tyrants and rebuilt the world we inhabit.
After the war, they populated their world with the likes of boomers like me.
My parents and their peers teamed up to equip me to navigate life,
teaching me and my peers to look up and not look back; to close the
gate and go forward. Their names will never grace the pages of a history
book or The New York Times, but neither their descendants nor the halls of heaven will forget their contributions.
And they, like the first settlers who left the old world in early 1600, never looked back. Yes, it's true that their greatness does not come with accolades, confetti, and notoriety. Notwithstanding, ever hopeful, they quietly released their kids to the winds, praying that they would soar like the eagles.
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2021
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment