NaPoWriMo #10 - Bridge Of Love

NaPoWriMo Prompt Day #10 (From Read WritePoem) - Celebrate!
     Write about a birthday party, a wedding, a baptism — any kind of celebration where you were with family or friends or both. Write about the colors you remember, the sounds (and how they made you feel) and the tastes you remember from any of those events. Did these things make you feel good? Did you experience any new foods? Did you meet any new people?

     Sometimes, beyond our control, festivities can take a turn for the worse. Maybe that happened to you or someone you know. Whatever happened, be it great or not so great, let’s write about it!



Bridge of Love

At seventeen, seventy years of marriage
is difficult to comprehend.
They were all I’d ever known –
my great grandparents -
Two individuals moving methodically
In a daily waltz; highs and lows
Carefully matched in three-quarter time.
We gathered in Sambo’s dining area –
sixteen foot table surrounded
with loving, chattering, insensitive family -
Papa at one end;
Grandma at the other.
Cataracts clouded Papa’s eyes;
Grandma’s hearing aids squealed.
I sat by Papa – wondering why
they had been seated so far apart
on their special day.
Deafening noise created a chasm
between the celebrated couple,
or so I’d thought.
I learned many lessons that day.
Amid the din, a tear
formed in Papa’s eye.
Their eyes locked.
“Jessie, Jessie, my beautiful Jessie;
You’re as beautiful as the day we wed.”
“I have always loved you,”
She spoke quietly;
He understood.
I caught a glimpse of
Something wondrous; rare –
a bridge of love
between two souls.
I would settle for nothing less.

A few months later,
Papa crossed that bridge alone.
Although broken hearted,
Grandma survived – she spoke to him each day.
Five years passed…
She celebrated my graduation…
rejoiced at my wedding…
marveled at birth of my first son...
On her birthday,
she extinguished ninety-seven candles
with one breath –
we were amazed.

“Papa’s here,” she said one Sunday,
“I know you’ll understand.”
Her time had come to go with him.
“Be happy.”
That night, she slept,
peacefully –
Secret smile upon her face –
a smile reserved for only him –
I’d seen that smile many times before.
Two days passed,
when Papa came
to take her home;
Quietly and peacefully,
she went with him -
holding his familiar hand;
joyfully crossing that bridge -
Again, I glimpsed that blessed bridge -
Endless love;
Two souls entwined for eternity…

©Bridget Nutting, 2010