Changes

Hands with Smooth cool calluses and the heart of his big hand always warm to my little snuggley one. The smell of Old Spice and a slight waft of sweet pipe tabacco told of his presence.
Always wearing Levi's slung low on his narrow hips , he knew only two styles of blue jeans old & new. His denim shirt matched his brilliant blue eyes , while the hint of mischeif and a devilish glint matched his smile.
I remember gliding across the room standing on his worn work boots as if we were skating on ice. Surrendering to his mellow voice singing "Baby's got her Blue Jeans on or Blue Skies "
Always his baby his special one, I wasn't his only love , each unique in our bond of special love.
I knew him as a man of unlimited patience , as seen in his breath taking Gardens or his ease in teaching both young and old . He always had time from yoyo tricks to teaching you how to fish.
There was always a magical queitness that surrounded him.
I never heard him speak words of anger. The look of his eyes , that was all it ever took for the flood gates to open as you punished yourself. To respect him came naturally because he treated you as if you stood on a tall box looking at him eye to eye.
Later , he quietly walked me down the isle , not letting me go but allowing another man make me the Love of his life. Tears streamed down our cheaks , though I understood it was time to multiply my heart , to cherish my true love as well as the man that never showed me anything but unconditional love that only grows from years of caring and showing.
I remember him looking into the mirror of my first born child. His face turned red and his voice grew husky as he pulled out the familiar hanky from his left back jean pocket. Holding the child tenderly he rocked back and forth as he sang to him , while the newborn stared back in wonder. His love was there equally for all of his grandchildren and the third generation legacies he started.
Today his breath is a slow uneven struggle . He is weak and feeble. No smell from his pipe, only the unfamiliar sent of disinfectant. Someone has stolen his breath and my heart. His weak arms are given a wiggly bundle of pink over the cold bars of his hospital bed. Her eyes are the exact image of her great grandfathers . His eyes are fading fast as his life is , as hers are just beginning to brighten with life and new beginings .
There is no denying the end is near . I feel the bone cold breeze blowing around me. Not shivers just a flat cold rock on my heart. I hold his hand , mean while I finally realize the true circle of life. His small hand is in the warm heart of my hand . I see my future in his eyes. I feel the beating of his heart in mine. His love will last forever because he gave it to me .