Silent, Defiant, Reliant…
He lays titivated with the glamour of love and devotion,
Cloaked with mourn, but overshadowed with emotion.
Hair slicked back, glasses neatly set,
His smirk persists eternally where his grace and humor met.
Quietly he remains, and in silence lies his quality,
Like his comedy his affection is solidified in serenity.
Selfless to a fault, with no intentions to reap return,
He pressures to appease and alleviate concern.
His presence was a comfort: joyously contagious.
Even in his frailty, his hilarity outrageous.
But his humor and compassion were nothing to his valor.
He never grieved a single pain, in his sickliest of colors.
Now lying above a cloud of pillows, which he relied on all year.
He watches another Sox game while waiting soon to hear,
On the speakers in the outfield, a warm and welcomed prayer,
Hoping to remind us dearly he’ll fearlessly be here.
To meet on Christmas to celebrate,
To watch my little sister graduate,
To watch my grandma while they operate,
To watch his grandkids procreate,
A family blessing to satiate,
We know that he’ll be there.
But right here, right now, he deserves to rest,
And I couldn’t be more pleased or feel more blessed.
It feels nearly meaningless to weep and grieve his death,
When he appeared so satisfied to his last machine-operated breath.
You can sob merciful tears, to which his pride was fueled,
But I just can’t do it, cause I know…my grandpa ruled.
He’s living it up in heaven with his remote control and cat,
Watching sports on ESPN and crankin’ up the thermostat.
Wearing that same belt he used to chase me round and round.
He’s the only person to wear a belt and have his pants sag down.
After spoiling all his children for over forty years,
He finally rests in peace with our constant prayers and cares.
Now I’d like to finish quickly, with a late and personal memory,
This last school year I’d visit my papa sometime after three,
I’d come to pick up my sister and stay to watch TV,
While my Papa talked constantly and finished Jeopardy.
He always said it was impossible for three people to be that bright,
And he watched the show for weeks without getting a single question right,
He might’ve been too busy talking, or might not’ve been awake,
But I’ll give him one last chance, in which he cannot make a mistake.
A loving husband who passed to watch over his wife,
The single, greatest father who refused to show any strife,
The most compassionate grandfather I’ve ever met in my life.
The Daily Double response, which I dedicate to my Grandpa,
Will… wait a second as I give this answer, the first, to my dear Papa.
Who is my grandfather: Stanley Przygocki
