The First Goodbye

The porch swing's moving slow Like it's still saying don't go Grandpa, your garden gloves are by the door The roses don't know yet what they're waiting for Your peppermints still rattle in the tin I take one out, and put it back again Mom says it's okay to cry Even grown-ups don't know why This is my first goodbye And it's the biggest one Grandpa, where did all the stories go The ones you kept inside your coat Mom says love's the kind of thing that stays Even when the swing stops swaying So I'll sit here in your place And learn my first goodbye You whistled low when you were thinking hard Two notes, like a bird out in the yard Your hands smelled like the cedar that you sanded down You let me wear your hat — it slid right past my crown The funeral suits were dark and tall I held your picture through it all This is my first goodbye And it's the heaviest one Grandpa, where did all the stories go The ones you kept inside your coat Mom says love's the kind of thing that stays Even when the swing stops swaying So I'll sit here in your place And learn my first goodbye Someday I'll be tall, with a coat of my own Pockets full of peppermints and stories And some small someone on my knee And I'll whistle low — two notes And you'll be there with me Grandpa, now I know where the stories go They climb inside the ones you loved Mom was right — it's the kind of thing that stays Even when the swing stops swaying I'm sitting in your place I've learned my first goodbye The roses bloomed today I think that's you, finding a way