Sweet Peaches
1881, in a small house in Avondale,
Newfoundland, grandpop
was born 145 years ago.
Mine is about the only memory
in which he still exists.
Sweet canned peaches. He’d open some
when Dad and I would visit him, rarely,
in his Camden rowhouse, 70 + years ago.
I was an unindulged child.
Though Dad would
sometimes recollect a harsh childhood
with a mean, unloving father, it’s 145 years
and no one’s left to dispute
my grandpop celebration of
sweet
syrupy
peaches.
10 thoughts on "Sweet Peaches"
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sweet memory
“Mine is about the only memory/ in which he still exists” is a startling phrase
I love this snapshot in time so now this memory will live on a little bit longer.
Echo Gaby. Also, my maternal GM was born “80 or ’81, and I savored her peach pies!
I can hear your voice when you write about peaches 😀
And yeah! As we are getting older we are becoming the holders of the memories. We can rewrite kindnesses into thee stories and there is no one around to dispute it. ❤️ Peaches !!
A man after my own heart, Joe! A can of peaches is my heaven on earth.
It’s pure grandpop
Joe, this is such a sweet and tender piece. Thank you for sharing!
Thanks, Jeremy. Grandpop wasn’t sweet, but his peaches were.
Joe, why do we remember our grandparents as stern,yet we think of ourselves as sweet loving grandparents? Will our grandchildren write wrong impressions of us?
Joe, I am the only memory for many of my family and those memorises find their way[ into my poetry…