Whenever I try to explain where my love of writing comes from, I seem to always begin with the fact that my Grandfather is a speech writer. He wrote speeches for executives at a handful of companies in his career, and he is still, at the age of 80, being asked to consult. He is fluent in MAC/Apple speak, and it easy to see how his writing has forced him to stay current, tech savvy.
Because writing was something that he took to, and wanted our family to share, he includes a personalized poem in his children’s and grandchildren’s birthday cards each year. Usually the poem marks some significant transition the year will bring- my 16th birthday poem focused on getting my license and starting to look at colleges. And on and on.
My mother has kept each and every card that came with a poem, insisting that they are family treasures; she is normally the most un-sentimental person I know.
What I didn’t know was that my grandfather was writing poems to my grandmother all these years. I will not try to preface what he wrote below. It is heart-warming and ooey-gooey.
Happy Birthday to Us!
The first night I met her
She blew me away
That slender Egyptian girl
When we danced, she floated
And I just held her tight
My mind and my heart in a whirl
Why did I think her ‘Egyptian?’
I’m not really sure that I know
She looked like a young Liz Taylor
So I gave her the name of Cleo
I never have remembered
A word we spoke that night
There was no need for discussion
Together we two just felt right
And now the years have flown by
But our meeting still feels so rare
Our grandkids are nearly grown up
And we’re still just a natural pair
So this is like my birthday, you see
‘Cause I’m an appreciative guy
And her birthday is a gift to me
On every day that goes by