Day 16-Papa's Curtains and Cough Drops

I hung his curtains on dusted rods,

freshly washed and not so neatly repaired.

Shades covered the windows

with sunshine around their edges.

On the bed lay gray and blue sweaters,

buttons missing, and needles waiting to be thread.

Passed the rooms of closets and mirrors,

and down the hall of warm, smiling faces in picture frames,

I  peered through the magnifying glass from on the desk.

All in the room appeared greater somehow:

the candy on the counter and the cough drops in the bag,

The finely decorated handheld looking glass

on the table became bigger than life--

its gems worth far more than wealth.

For jewels reflected the clear blue of his kind eyes

as he rocked in his chair with great grandchildren held tight.

All blessed moments that made a loving home

where now will be home in my heart.

I originally wrote this poem for my son Ryan and dedicated it to his great-grandfather, Henry Hoffman, affectionately called Papa who passed away in August 1991.  This poem describes a particular visit when some housekeeping took place, which was not easy with small children.  However, Papa entertained them with his magnifying glass, looking glass, candy, and cough drops.  My children thought cough drops were just the same as candy.  Papa made everything sweet!