Letter to Grandpa

:Dear Grandpa,
Do you remember when you caught a fish for me with your bare
         brown-as-a-berry hands?
Together, we drove around the Lehigh Valley searching for horses.                            .
You taught me how to feed a horse an apple, fingers held
        tightly together, palm turned upward.
Grandpa, I love you because you have shown me so many things:
        how to ice-skate, to swim, to dive.
We swam in Sailor’s Lake and Wallenpaupack and dove off
        boulders.
In the fall you raked mounds of leaves that rose like small
       elephants’ backs on the front lawn in Coopersburg.
Pixie and I jumped in every one and scattered brown leaves
        like parachutes in the wind.
You surprised me with my own rink on Christmas morning,
         hosing down the yard to make a sheet of silver-smooth ice.
Together we walked up the mountain and rescued a tiny fir tree,
         Little Pocono.
Grandpa, remember how we danced the polka with me
         standing on your stockinged feet?
We practiced driving in your Dodge that had no power steering.
You are special because you truly lived your life by the
        Golden Rule.
You taught me to try to live my life that way, too.
 
You were my teacher, my best friend, my hero.
You were the sun and the moon and the stars.
You were my universe.
I will always love you.
 
Your granddaughter,
 Lynnie