Charlotte Weaver, Grade 12
I'd do anything to hear your voice again; to see you blink or even smile.
To see you wave goodbye to me and blow a kiss like you always managed to do.
Like a vegetable you lay there now, skinny to death, with legs so terribly swollen.
Your breath is no longer constant but every six seconds you gasp, hoping for something to fill your non-functioning lungs.
Such a healthy man you were,all organic and fresh; but a disease had you gone before anyone else.
It was only the day before you spoke to me; last words being "I love you"
So much love you gave to us all but now,
now you can't even speak.
They say you can hear us so we yell with all hope; "Opa, we love you so much!"
Your eyes just stare at the ceiling, like glass that has lost its colour.
Cousins, family say hello, they melt down as reality hits in...there will be no reply, never.
If only I could have one more chat with you, tell you how much I care,
Tears come to me each time I catch a glance into your eyes; or hear your occasional breath; or simply think of a memory of what we'll miss.
Your hand still warm, I hold so tight. Until your pulse has stopped.
We now sit at the funeral, the coffin coming in; "Opa is in that box"
Tears flood as we know children just don't understand.
Screaming and cold cries in the rain; "Why are they putting Opa's box in the ground?"
Well, He's in a better place now.