Grandpa Ed
by Jacqueline Baldwin

in Beckett's play "Endgame" when
Clov says to Hamm: "Look: he's crying"
Hamm responds: "then he's living"

father of four grown children
father-in-law to their partners
grandfather of young people who
adore and respect him
his knees ache from
years of work at the local pulp mill
he never ever complains about the pain

he relaxes on the couch with his wife
Donalene, born in Saskatchewan
their eyes light up as they
listen to one another
Ed loves and likes his wife
isn't afraid to show it

we are watching six year old Macaulay
the grand-daughter we share
open her birthday presents

Macaulay opens each present
shows everyone in the room what it is
Mama's rules:
she names who has given it to her then
thanks that person
in the same courteous way she refuses chocolate saying
no, thankyou, Mama doesn't allow chocolate until
after dinner

when all the presents are opened and the
children have begun playing the new games
we talk
about money and where it hides, about
Elvis's concert in Vancouver in the late 1950s
how inexpensive cigarettes seemed to Ed in 1954
when he immigrated to Canada from Germany
where you could afford them only
one at a time
"eine Zigaretten, bitte" at the factory canteen
his first job, only sixteen, running errands for his boss

he never wanted to go back there
couldn't
remains haunted by the images of
what he saw
a small child under Hitler's regime

his wife rubs his hand, his wrist, warns him:
don't think about it dear it's too hard on you, please
but it's too late
he has remembered and he has to tell us
he has to

he cries copious tears
without being able to stop talking
or crying

it was the worst thing the worst thing the worst when
they were herding small children, the very worst
small Jewish children in the middle of winter on the ice
just little children
herding them, pushing them along

and the children, the little children walking on the ice
they had no shoes on, they had bare feet
it was terrible and it wasn't even as bad as other things
but it was the worst, their having no shoes on

he cries
his wife rubs his arm while he cries

silent, our tears run
imagining his burden all these long years
not being able to help them
imagining this kind, good, man for sixty years
carrying memory of his powerlessness, his
inability to run to those children
pick them up in his strong young boy arms
carry them to safety, warmth, security
bring them to a place of welcome

the way he has done for his four Canadian children
their partners, their relatives, his in-laws
his wife,
and all his beloved grandchildren