Thanksgiving Suite #4

The Very last of the Thanksgiving Suite

Part 1

I was born
In 1896
I sent a message to the future
To my first-born grandson
If he remembers
After I have gone
If I live.

I might have written the message on a scrap piece of paper
With a chewed pencil
Left it for the future in a wooden box.

I might have written the message into a journal
[I didn’t keep a journal]
I might have prayed it in the synagogue
A spiritual creation lurking between the suns
Until the time was
For delivery
[I didn’t pray].

I sent it through the post.

Part 2

Grandfather sent me a message
Into the future
On the night of Thanksgiving
He sent it in the least likely way
He who always tended me well
When I was a boy.

I stood in a doorway on this particular Thanksgiving
And told a story about my Grandfather
And just as I came to the punch line
It was the story how Grandfather had rescued me —

I received a text message
Something for me only he said
He sent it text message.

I was least expecting a message, at all
But a text message was so clever
Long after his departure
His voice returns to me.

I carry his voice with me always,
But this —
The name he called me that was reserved for him
The expression he sent by text which only he said
The way he filled me up when I depleted.

I love you enough, he taught me,
When you are diminished
You may take from me,

I love you enough —
When you are partial
You may fill from me,

I love you that much —
When you feel less
You may draw from me
I am more,

And I have been created to be your grandfather
And you have been created to be
My grandson.

You may live all your lives this way,

Now —
Don’t forget what we are
For each other.
There is no shame in need
To be whole.

Thanksgiving, 2008