Grandpa tended the roses.
Not for Grandma’s sake
Even though he took them to her grave
But when he died, there were roses on his casket.
I touched the hand of his body
And thought it was nice, knowing that if he wasn’t there
And the hand was just a hand
Then he was probably elsewhere, tending the roses.
My dad cried.
I didn’t know he could do that.
I did know he could swear,
But only when his dad wasn’t around.
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Grandpa Tended the Roses
