Bob Coughlin / January 6, 2016
Friday, January 15, 2016
Poem for Robby. And Another for the Little One
Portrait of Robby at Two
When Robby wakes up after his nap,
(And this boy is one good napper),
He lies in bed awhile and talks.
Sometimes he practices sounds or words.
One day I heard him say the word “yes”
At least ten times. “Yes!” “Yes!” and “Yes!”
If I come visit him and walk into the house with my shoes on,
Robby points to my shoes, then pulls them off,
Carries them to the door, sets them in perfect order—
He is like me, his Grandfather,
He likes order—and at the same time,
Robby loves to play in his basement,
A paradise for toddlers. He tells his Grandmother,
“Nana, run! Run!”
Then runs in a circle ten times,
Wearing out poor Nana.
When visiting, I ask Robby to show me the fish.
He takes me to the aquarium and shows me
The big ones, the little ones, the blue and the pink.
He loves the fish—wants me to feed them.
Then he takes me by the hand to the piano.
He actually puts my fingers on the keys
And says, “Play, Brrr, play!”
“Play ‘Jingle Bells’!”
He calls me “Brr” like his big brother Colin—
“Brrr”—the bearded grandfather,
A name I love.
This little guy, now two-years-old,
So happy, so much fun,
Such a great teacher to his parents,
Grandparents, and brother.
Bob (“Brrr”) Coughlin / January 2016
Just ten weeks knit together in your Mother’s womb,
We love you already,
Pray for you on the perilous journey to birth.
We know you are both strong . . .
And we ask the angels to guide you
The thirty weeks more until your birth—
Want you to know what a loving family
You are part of us
Can’t wait for you to know your Mom and Dad,
Your crazy bothers,
Aunts, uncles, cousins
And the friends who root for you now,
Who will be your teachers
We are so full of gratitude