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

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