Poopa’s Garden
by Matt Bergin
My dad said, “Let’s go visit Poopa's Garden!”
I shrugged and said I thought that sounded swell.
But then I had to ask Dad, "Who is Poopa?"
"He’s someone special that you didn't know so well."
So we took a drive upstate to Poopa's Garden.
And on the way, Dad said who 'Poopa' was to me.
"I once had a daddy, too," is how he put it.
"And that’s the Poopa we are on our way to see."
I then asked why we called it Poopa’s Garden.
"I’m glad you asked. I know it's a pretty funny name…"
"Grand Poobah" is what he wanted us to call him.
But he misspoke, and now our sense of humor is to blame."
So I figured we’d have fun at Poopa’s Garden.
He sounded silly, which to me just sounded great.
Dad knew a laugh is what I was expecting, and he smiled.
"A good joke is something Poopa could appreciate."
We stopped along the way to Poopa’s Garden.
We bought some flowers, which my daddy let me pick.
"How ‘bout these white lilies?" he suggested.
But I liked yellow daisies, which he said would do the trick.
"I have to warn you, before we get to Poopa’s Garden..."
"You won't SEE your Poopa there…like with your eyes."
I didn't understand the tremble in my daddy’s voice:
"You see, Poopa ... my daddy ... well … he died."
We stood silent at the gate to Poopa’s Garden.
As it opened, Daddy held me. “Don’t be scared.”
"Is Poopa scary!? I asked nervously of daddy.
"No, not at all…it's just scary when you lose someone who cared."
I wasn't scared, or sad, or mad in Poopa's Garden.
There was nothing to upset me there at all.
Just a sea of roundish stones on a field of fresh-cut grass,
And a few trees I bet look pretty in the Fall.
I got to play around in Poopa's Garden.
It wasn't quite a park, but it was close.
I circled trees and bobbed between those rounded stones…
And I took care to not disturb the resting ghosts.
We spent the day, my Dad and me, in Poopa’s Garden.
Dad showed me pictures and told me stories of way-back-when.
I guess I did feel kind of sad to never know him…
But I’ll be happy when we visit him again.
The End (is never really the end)
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| Visiting dad at Gates of Heaven ~2010 |
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| Visiting yesterday. There are more of us now. We brought candy. |
