To my great-grandfather

Did you know how much Mom loved you? 
Looked to you, her compass. 
Wanted to hug you when she came home from school.

The person who showed her how to carve a sconce and shellac a newel post, 
heads bent together over your workbench. 

The person who smiled at her over morning eggs, said, 
be good, study hard. 
The one who loved her more than anyone, 
possible the only one. 

She delighted in driving with you in your black Model T
out into the country, away from The Shrew, her grandmother. 

Escape, sustenance, love, your gifts to her. 
You must not have realized how much she depended on you

or you might have thought twice
about hanging yourself from a beam 
in the barn

where she discovered you.