after going out, on a day so bleak.
Out on the ice, for some fishing he goes;
But the ice gave through, and he almost froze.
Flooded in horror, and screaming in fear;
Hoping that someone, around him would hear.
Pulled from the water, he lived on that day.
But Oh, what a hefty price to pay.
For never again, would his voice ring true;
and at times, I could see, that this made him blue.
The screams that saved him from death, no doubt.
Ruptured the tissue, where his voice came out.
I would sit in his lap, when young, and would stare;
at the tube in his neck, in through which he drew air.
Stories from his childhood, I would never grow to know;
For speaking that long, was too hard, and would show.
His hisses and grunts did not bother me;
but for strangers, it seemed, they just wanted to flee.
But nevertheless, we talked all the same;
and sometimes even made it into a game.
The things that he said, came so clear and bright;
when heard, not through ears, but while using my sight.
From a glowing smile, to a playful little wink;
or a stubble coated kiss, he would plant on my cheek.
His calloused hands, that could tear you apart;
were as soft as lace, when held near to his heart.
As I think about this and my eyes start to tear;
I realize, so few people, were ever so dear.
Words can be cheap from a heart thats not true;
and often what you hear, doesn't matter to you.
This man is now gone, he has passed away;
His angel friends took him to heaven to play.
I still look, to this day, at the sky up above;
wondering if that breeze, just might be a hug.
Or that itch on my neck, that I just had to scratch;
was a stubble riddled peck, brought back from the past.
Through out the day, doing whatever I do;
with never a word Grandpa, know I still love you!!
Author: Douglas Q. Plew
In Loving Memory of my Grandpa
Estry Jay Mains
This accident happened in the 1940's, My
mother like myself never heard his true voice.
December 31, 1917--March 25, 1993
As He Rests In
Peace, He Is Remembered


