35 is not a big number 3rd

35  is not a big number.

It is but a handful of pennies or cents

In minutes or miles, it’s not immense.

In sweets or words, it is not a lot

35 spoonfuls wouldn’t fill the pot.

But in years.....  it is a long, long time.

A generation is less.

Between the Wars was only 21; oh yes.

Kings and presidents, prime ministers too

Come and go depending on how they do

And forgotten and the memory fades with days.

But some days are remembered always.

It takes just an anniversarial prompt and you’re there.

My Dad died this Good day 35 years ago.

Yeah, I know; it happens...  just let it go...

But it still seems so fresh, the pain so keen.

35 years ago is a long, long, long time.

But I still remember my Mum phoning me to tell me the news

And the drive to be with family: listening to Paul’s Boxer.

And the shock and disbelief, yes, and the grief

And my Mum now all alone and my brothers in tears (not me)

That day changes everything.

The soon sadness to come that Pop would never know

My two sons; wouldn’t see them grow

Into men.

And then... it was just another day.

Yeah, I know; it happens...  just let it go...

But it still hurts, even though it was 35 years ago.